A Certain Point of View
by GuyverChaz
Summary: Many of the truths that we cling to depend entirely on our own point of view. How much of what we know of the Knight Sabers world is taken from the point of view of Sylia and crew? Now Updated and Properly formatted. Preview of chap 9 is up.
1. Chapter 1

Steel gray clouds scuttled in groups across the sky allowing the starlight to occasionally peak through. A bitterly cold breeze, with the smell of promised snow, whipped through the tops of the trees and stirred the fallen leaves on the path as a lone figure strode across the Michigan State campus. His stride proclaimed him no stranger to this kind of weather, although his tan mentioned that he hadn't seen it for a while. He was in his early twenties, wearing a military camouflage coat, with all insignia carefully cut off, covering a black turtleneck sweater, gray jeans, and black gloves. Home! God! It feels good to home again. Four years in the Air Force was long enough, in fact too long. Not that he complained about his assignment location. Most people would give a lot to live in Hawaii for a few years but after a while you begin to miss the changing of the seasons.

At this time of night the usually busy campus was silent. Just a few science buildings shining a few forlorn lights into the darkness as research students worked late into the night. He quickened his pace as he walked across the campus towards his meeting. Tonight was going to be something special. He'd waited for this night for weeks. Tonight was when he would find out what happened to Tenchi. The last episode had left off in something of a cliffhanger. Somewhere along the line he stepped over that fine line between casual interest and true Otakudom. Who else would walk through an incipient blizzard to watch an OAV he could have borrowed tomorrow? Smiling to himself, he answered his own question. No one, that's who. At least he wasn't alone. His fellow addicts would also be at the meeting tonight. Just past the hi-energy research building and across the field and he could warm up. Hmm. .So there is something to say for an eternal summer he thought ruefully. If he cut through the lab he should be able to warm up a little before walking across the field.

Opening the door he walked into the building. A flickering light shone from the open door down the hallway as he walked through. It was probably someone up late finishing a report. As he walked past the door he looked inside just in time to see a metallic tube break free from a complicated assembly and point towards him. A wave like thunder without sound washed over him as the world turned briefly electric white and then pitch black. As awareness faded a last thought shot across his mind. I wonder if this is what Tenchi felt like...

Matter Over Mind Productions

Presents

MegaTokyo 2032

The Knight Sabers

"A Certain Point of View"

Chapter One-Beginnings

Copyright (c) 2005 Charles S. Stitman

A panoramic window looked out over a sprawling metropolis. A tall, steel-eyed man with a face of chiseled stone wearing a white suit sits watching over "HIS" city as Mason gives his daily report. "...He should be able to procure it as soon as its initial programming is completed." The phone rang, and interrupted Mason. The black-hared assistant handed the phone to the Chairman and backed off to a respectful distance.

Keeping half an ear on the telephone conversation the young Japanese man continued to think about his report and the problem at hand. The trick would not be in getting the uplink device, but in making sure that HE also got a copy of the technical specifications. And what was he going to do about that bitch Madigan? She was getting entirely to close to him. If she digs up any of the details of project Lazarus he could be in real trouble. Hmm... Her little project is coming up for review. He smiled at the thought. She thought that was the cutting edge of boomer technology. Still if he could make that go badly enough it might slow her down long enough for him to better establish his position. Part of his mind noted that the telephone conversation was coming to an end and closed off the scheming for now. "...If you show us your support we can guarantee the Prime Minister's position." As much as Mason hated to admit it, the old man was good. "Yes...You can count on it rest assured." The Chairman finished his conversation and handed the phone back to his assistant. Mason took the phone and placed it in the cradle. Leaning back the Chairman fixed his gaze solidly upon his assistant. Quincy waved for him to continue. Mason thought for a moment and picked up where he had left off. "Regarding the collection you desired. My men have just acquired it from USSD." He was proud of the snatch; it had gone off without a hitch.

Quincy closed his eyes. "I wanted that item for the further expansion of GENOM Enterprises. This is an extremely important collection. Handle it with care." 

Mason was affronted. He always handled projects with care. People who didn't tended to disappear in GENOM. "I believe I can make it available to you within 24 hours sir." That should give him time to analyze it and still have enough time to install it in the Super-Boomer.

Quincy opened his eyes and looked at his subordinate. "Mason, I'll leave it up to you. But don't forget the GENOM is a respectable company. It would be unfortunate if our name were to surface even slightly." 

Mason accepted the warning calmly. It was standard. "Yes Sir. Consider it done." 

With a casual wave of his hand Quincy dismissed the young man. As his black-haired assistant neared the door. Quincy added, "Send in Madigan on your way out" 

Stifling a snarl Mason nodded his acceptance of the order and continued through the door controlling the desire to slam it as he left. He had to do something soon!

Quincy turned towards the window and resumed his thinking. Mason was coming along nicely. Using Madigan as a prod was turning out to be an even better idea than he had thought it would be. Soon Mason would become truly paranoid. At that point his usefulness to the company would be greatly expanded. Unless, he admitted to himself, it drives Mason over the edge. But if that happened he would still have Madigan waiting in the wings to replace Mason. First rule; always keep a backup plan handy. He smiled to himself. A knock sounded from the door at the end of the office. Ah, Madigan. "Enter" 

As Madigan stepped into the room the light began to flicker. Quincy frowned slightly. Madigan paled. When the Chairman frowned it usually meant someone's life was about to be ruined, or shortly ended.

"Madigan find out what's causing this and.." 

Quincy got no further. With a bright flare of light and a sensation like silent thunder a body and a strangely curved chunk of cement materialized and fell to the floor.

Madigan sank abruptly to the floor as her mind dealt with what she saw. Quincy decided that the still figure posed no threat and dismissed the security boomers that had broken in when the intruder alarm had activated. Quincy looked over the still figure and then over at Madigan. She slowly straightened and collected herself. The Chairman gave a small nod. Good, not too shaken. Mason would have done better. But, still not too bad. "Madigan, Leave the briefing of your project on my desk and take care of this." Quincy turned his back on the room and resumed his thoughts. In his opinion nothing more needed to be said. She would find out what had caused this as quickly as if he had directly ordered her to. Madigan was no fool.

Madigan was stunned. This person had dropped into the Chairman's office out of nowhere. The Chairman seemed unconcerned about it. But the implications were frightening. Throwing off her feelings, she gave the orders that would insure that they found out where he was from and how he had gotten here. After the boomers had finished clearing the mess. She made sure that the room was spotless before leaving. If she had looked at Quincy's reflection in the glass she might have seen the Chairman's small smile beneath his cold eyes.

Slowly the outside world began to reestablish itself. He felt something flat and soft underneath him. Somewhere there was a voice talking to him. Not the worst sign. At least there was still a him in existence to hear it.

"How are you?" 

He opened his eyes and groaned as the light stabbed spears though his eyes and into his brain. Beyond the headache that would have had Beelzebub asking for mercy there was something odd here.

"Can you hear me?" 

Why would an American nurse be speaking in Japanese? Luckily she was keeping the sentences simple. If they had been too much more complex he wouldn't have understood them at all.

"Give him a moment he's still coming around." 

Huh? Another voice. Saying something too quickly and too complex to be understood. Well time to try opening his eyes again. The light that stabbed in this time was bearable. Blinking back tears he sat up. Obviously a hospital of some kind. Two nurses, one doctor and an angry looking man in an immaculate business suit.

"Are you all right?" 

"I think so. However, please to speak English. My Japanese isn't very good." 

"You're American?" the suit spoke for the first time.

He decided to ignore the look in the suit's eyes. "Yeah, Where am I?"

"You are in Tokyo General Hospital."

"Tokyo? How the hell did I wind up in Tokyo?"

The doctor looked distressed and motioned the suit to go easy on his patient. The suit returned the look with one that carried a threat behind it and visibly tried to relax. If this line of questioning didn't work he had orders to try other things. Someone wanted answers and wasn't concerned with how they got them.

"Patience," he soothed. "You've been in an accident and been unconscious for two days."

"Oh," Charles lay back absorbing that.

"You don't remember how you got here?"

"No, the last thing I remember was walking through the high-energy research lab at Michigan State University. A bright light then poof. Here I am," Charles couldn't quite keep the animosity he was beginning to feel for this man out of his voice.

The suit didn't look very convinced. "Charles S. Stitman. We found your wallet and ID would you care to explain them?"

"What's to explain?" Charles asked testily. "If you've got my ID you should have been able to find out everything you needed to know."

The suit consulted a clipboard. "According to your ID you were born on July 17, 1971 is that right?"

"Yeah," Charles answered carefully.

"And how old are you now?" This question seemed to have teeth.

"What is this? A joke? Do the math! I'm twenty-four," Chaz had had enough of the dog and pony show. If this guy wanted answers why didn't he just ask direct questions?

The suit turned to the doctor and nurses. "Get out. I'll let you know when you can come back in again." 

Fright flickered across their faces and they looked with concern at their patient.

"He'll be fine for now. I just need some privacy," the suit assured them.

Charles hadn't missed the looks on the doctor's and nurses' faces and was feeling a little more wary.

"Mr. Charles.." the suit began.

"Stitman," Charles corrected absently. "Chaz to my friends." Which you obviously don't count as.

The suit visibly restrained himself. "Mr. Stitman, it's you who can't do the math. If you were born when all your ID says you were you would now be 61 years old," he paused to let this sink in. "So now that we have established that. Perhaps you would be so good as to tell us who you are really working for."

Chaz just sat there staggered by what he had just heard. A half-coherent thought ambled across his mind; I don't think I'm going to able to get to see the rest of Tenchi after all. "I don't understand?" He finally managed.

"In case you're wondering we did check you ID on the off chance it was authentic," the suit raised an eyebrow. "Pretty impressive actually. While the paper, plastic, markings and picture were all authentic in every detail. We couldn't find so much as a trace of you in anybody's computers including the US's and we were very thorough."

"But that's impossible! I was in the military for years!" Chaz yelled.

The suit began to take an interest and jotted a note on his clipboard.

Oblivious, Chaz continued to rave, "I have family in Michigan! I can tell you anything about them!"

The suit stood up. "Mr. Stitman, I will return later. I hope that at that time you will be willing to tell the truth."

"But I AM TElling..." Chaz's voice died off as he considered the implications of what the man had told him were. Slowly he rolled over into the pillow and began to cry.

Outside in the hallway the suit handed over his notes and a copy of the data recording to a waiting Madigan.

"What do you think?" 

"It's too soon to tell. If he's a plant someone went to a lot of effort. Nobody capable of such work would bother. He sticks out like a sore thumb. If you want my professional opinion I'd say he thinks he's telling the truth." 

"Thinks?" 

"Sure. Give someone enough drugs you can convince them of anything." 

"What about his background" 

"Just like I told the kid. Not a trace anywhere. The only files in existence on him anywhere are on that disk." 

Madigan looked at the monitor where Chaz was crying into his pillow. "Doctor is he fit to travel?" 

The doctor startled to be addressed directly stammered, "Ye…Yes Miss Madigan." 

She nodded stiffly. "Good, give him a sedative to relax him and bring him to the tower." 

The suit nodded. "No problem." 

Chaz collected himself. He was still alive after all. Things could be worse. If he's stuck in the future at least it won't be boring. Who knows what the world holds these days?

The nurses wheeled in his dinner and he went at the simple fare like a starving man. Completely missing the sympathetic looks on the nurses' faces. Finishing his meal he lay back and relaxed in his bed. Feeling better than he had since he woke up. A vague uneasiness came up from the back of his mind. Somewhere he heard a voice saying, "Do the math." With a yawn he rolled over. Let's see 1971 plus 61 gives 2032. Why does that number sound familiar? Putting the question aside for later he went to sleep.

Madigan finished her report to the Chairman, "If he's telling the truth then he's somehow managed to travel through space and time! If he's not telling the truth than at the very least someone has come up with a way to teleport things. It's my recommendation that we keep him under sedation and interrogate him until we find out everything he knows." 

Quincy pressed his fingertips together and looked at Madigan. "Why? If he's telling the truth, and I believe he is, then he probably knows nothing of the accident that sent him here. If he's not telling the truth then someone went to a lot of effort to make him interesting to us. In that case they would certainly have made sure he knew nothing of the process that sent him here. Either way we would be served best by simply getting rid of him. Once I heard your initial report I instructed Mason to take care of it." 

Chaz awoke much later. Opening his eyes he tried to stretch his arms only to find he couldn't move them. Not only did his limbs feel leaden, he was strapped down! A voice was talking above him but he couldn't decipher the words. He opened his mouth to speak and found that he couldn't!

"Don't bother trying to talk. We'll be done long before the neural block wears off," came a voice from somewhere out of sight.

At least someone was talking to him in English. Well if they were going to try finding out if he was telling the truth, they would find that he was and hopefully at some point let him go. At least he was safe for the moment.

A doctor walked into view and began talking to someone out of his sight while fastening some kind of device on his temple and around his head.

"You realize that there is no guarantee this is going to work? The subject you procured is almost ideal but the process has never been tested on a human subject." 

The doctor pulled up a needle attached to a complicated assembly of fiber thin hoses. "Ah Jeez I hate needles," Chaz thought as the doctor stuck a series of needles into the artery and vein of his neck and one deep into what felt briefly like his spine before the nerve block covered the pain. He wondered what that one was for. What about infection?

"Doctor, for everything there is a first time. In the event that the process fails nothing has been lost. The Chairman has already ordered me to dispose of this one. And I'm looking forward to seeing Madigan's face when she realizes that her special project has disappeared." 

"What do we do with him if the process succeeds?" Asked the doctor as he began warming up the machinery attached to the needles.

"Relax doctor, if the process works then we dispose of him just the same. Either way the Chairman's orders are carried out and I frustrate Madigan." Moreover, if it works you old fool, thought the mind behind the voice, then I know everything I need to and I can dispose of you at the same time. "Now then, are you ready to make history Mr. Stitman? Of course you are!"

History? Why would a simple procedure make history? Unless... They were going to try something experimental on him! Chaz arched his back and fought against the restraints holding him to the table; to no avail. They had been thoroughly tightened, he had to give them that. There wasn't so much as an inch of give in those straps. Slowly the table tilted forward. Finally Chaz could look upon the face which had been talking to him. Where had he seen that face before? It looked so damn familiar! Japanese, dark suit slicked back hair. Damn! Nothing! Behind the face was a HUGE man wearing a tan suit and dark glasses who also looked familiar. Who... No that was the wrong question. Why should he recognize these two? Who did he know in 2032 To...kyo. Oh no. This is NOT happening. He had to get out of here! He frantically renewed his struggles.

"Doctor, You may begin at anytime." 

Begin? Whatever he was up to, Chaz definitely did not want him to begin. Then he felt it. At first he felt the utterly strange sensation of something cold being forced into his blood stream; then a kind of buzzing at the edge of his thoughts. The buzzing spread through his limbs leaving numbness in its wake. The buzzing started building into an excruciating pain and a severe disorientation. Chaz tried to scream. The sound emerged as a hoarse wet choking noise. The world dimmed to black and faded from view. As if from far away he heard voices.

"Flatline. He's dead," the doctor's voice said calmly.

"Did it work?" Mason asked in a flat tone of voice.

"Other than the fact that he's dead? I think so. The readings are a little strange," the doctor replied looking at a computer display.

"In what way?" Mason asked. He was a bit more than curious. This was one of the only two options open to him. If this one failed he'd have to rely solely on the other. He hated not having a backup plan available.

"There was an adjustment in the flow as he tried to fight it," the doctor said absently.

"Will it affect the outcome?" Mason asked with as much casualness as he could.

"I shouldn't think so. Not much anyway. But if you plan on using one of the processes I'd advise you to use the other method we tried on the other subject."

"What happened to that subject?"

"He couldn't handle the change. He went mad." The doctor shrugged, obviously unconcerned.

Oh. So, it was just a matter of will power then. A slow smile crossed the face of the young executive. "Thank you doctor. That's all I needed to hear."

A high-pitched whine rang out. Followed by a thud as the doctor's body hit the ground.

As his hearing died out Chaz heard Brian J. Mason tell his bodyguard to dispose of the bodies.

He woke up. No disorientation, no sleepiness, just a sudden alertness. For the second time in two days he felt glad there was a he there to wake up at all. Then he looked around. Well, maybe not SO glad. He was lying naked on top of what looked like a scrap metal pile at the bottom of a steel-lined pit. Well he did say to get rid of the bodies. I wonder how he decided to get rid of the doctor.

The pile of steel under his feet shook a bit and began to sink farther into the pit. Somewhere nearby scrap was being melted down and purified for recycling. He could smell it. The sinking became a sliding as it increased in speed. He realized what the probable fate was of anybody on top of the heap when it completed its journey.

His eyes widened and his feet burst into motion. "Whoa! Time to go!" Running across the scrap, he reached the edge of the pit. Oh Shit. There's no way out of this thing. He looked up at the steeply sloped wall. The only route he saw was just a seam where the steel panels had been badly welded together. 'Maybe I can jam something in that to make a handhold.' He quickly grabbed two pieces of steel rod from the pile. Jabbing forward as hard as he could he was surprised when the steel rod went in easily. 'Humph. Cheap welding job. Surprised it hasn't fallen apart.' He jabbed the other rod in. Using the rods in hand over hand motion he slowly hauled himself up out of the pit. Standing naked and dirty at the top, he looked down as the last of the scrap dropped into the laser and liquid nitrogen fragmentator. The steel, suddenly subjected to extreme temperature shock, shattered like plate glass. Ouch. That would have been painful. Chaz looked up at the slowly darkening sky. Mason, you are going to pay for this. Somehow that idea seemed remote. First he had better find some clothes.

After scrounging around the automated recycling center for an hour and a half, he finally found a set of worker's overalls hanging in a locker. 'A little small, but livable.' Shoes were a bit of a problem but he'd always had tough feet anyway. He chuckled at that. Shoes a problem. Stuck in Mega-Tokyo in 2032, Mason had already tried to kill him once and he thought shoes are a problem. Oh God! At least he hadn't lost his sense of humor.

A sudden huge flare of light made him focus his attention on the bay to the West. In the fading glow he could see large volumes of smoke pouring from a huge docking facility; a facility that seemed to be self-destructing and falling into the sea. Probably Aqua-City. Well that placed the time for him anyway. Sometime in the next couple days GENOM would recover the Black Box and Irene would be killed by one of the razor dolls. Perfect, just perfect. Well at least he had a few months before Largo would become a problem. Maybe he could try to warn the Knight Sabers. Yeah, Right. No one in his or her right mind would believe the story he would tell. On the other hand he didn't have much to lose in the attempt. Chaz stood up and began to walk into the city.

As he walked into the city he got another shock. Most of the sign were in kanji. Not strange in itself. However, he could understand them! His Japanese had always been mediocre at best. Now it seemed he could read it fluently. Mason! What had that bastard been up to? Well, it would make things easier anyway. He shrugged and continued walking. The city was confusing enough without having to worry about understanding the language. The big worry though was what else had Mason been playing with? The face he saw in the window reflection was the same one he'd been shaving since he was fifteen. His body looked a little larger than normal but part of that was probably from the too small overalls. Nothing he could do about it now.

He looked around. That should do nicely. He walked into the police box. The female cop on duty waved at a chair next to her desk while she finished doing something with her computer. Silver hair? That surely couldn't be natural. Not with that face. Colored hair must be a fad these days. Waiting patiently until she had finished, he asked for directions to Ginza. The female cop on duty didn't seem to notice the question at first. She just sat there looking at him dreamily. Chaz looked behind him. 'Nope, no one there.' What was it about her eyes? The color was right but… he couldn't place his finger on how he knew but one of her eyes was artificial he was sure of it.

Pushing the errant thought from his mind, he tried again, "Ah, excuse me miss, could you tell me how to get to Ginza?"

She blinked then blushed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare." She looked him over. "Were you mugged? Do you need to make a report?" she asked almost eagerly.

Chaz gave her his best sheepish smile. "Not really. It's kind of hard to explain. Could you tell me how to get to Ginza?"

"Ginza?" she looked down at his bare feet. "How are you going to get there?"

"Huh?" he grinned ruefully. "It looks like I'm going to have to walk."

"From here?" she exclaimed "That would take you all day!"

Oh great. I would have to be on the wrong side of the city. "That's all right, I don't mind the walk," he lied gamely.

She looked up at him shyly. "If you're willing to wait for a couple of hours I can take you there on my lunch break."

"I don't want to impose," he demurred. PLEASE don't let her change her mind.

"No No. It would be my pleasure. My name's Iris. I mean Sergeant Iris Cara."

"Chaz. Nice to meet you." He bowed formally. "It wouldn't be going to far to say that you are the best thing to happen to me today," Considering how my day's going.

Iris blushed again. "I have to make my rounds now, but I'll be back in a couple of hours. If you could come back then. I'll be able to take you."

"Thank you," Chaz accepted politely.

As he walked out she gave him a nice smile. Smiling automatically in return, he shut the door behind him. That's odd. He looked at his reflection in a window. 'Nope, still the same ugly mug I was born with. I wonder if she's that forward with every guy she meets?' She didn't seem the type. Putting the question aside, he turned to the business at hand. What to do for the next couple of hours? Walking down the street he paused before an electronics store. On the large flat screen TV in the window a large, balding man in a military uniform was finishing an apologetic speech and promising a prompt inquiry. Riiight. He'd forgotten that USSD had wound up holding the bag for the Aqua-City fiasco. He walked around the area, ignoring the stares of the residents, until it was time to meet Darlene. After a couple hours he saw her car pull back into the drive.

"Ready to go?" she called from inside as she unlocked the door.

"Sure. Thanks again. I really appreciate the ride," he said as he buckled himself in.

"You could pay me back by letting me buy you lunch," she said quickly.

Huh? Where did that come from? He smiled a little. "I couldn't turn that offer down if I wanted to."

"Come on then. I know a great little sandwich place," she said as she pulled out of the driveway.

She was right about the sandwiches. They were delicious; hot pastramis on rye. Pure bliss. They made small talk until it was time for her to go back to work. She turned as he opened her door. "Listen. If you need any help getting settled don't hesitate to give me a call," she said handing him her card. "Maybe even if you don't need help," she said with a slight grin.

"Thanks I will," Chaz said working hard to control his blush. He felt a little guilty about the story he told her. It couldn't be helped.

Still smiling she shut the door and drove off.

Pocketing the card. Chaz walked down the street. If he remembered the street map he'd once seen in Animage then Sylia's shop should be around here somewhere. Ah! There it was. Building 633, Silky Doll Enterprises. Taking a deep breath he opened the door and walked in.

Timing is everything, he thought. If he could have picked a time to arrive, this would have been it. Nene was holding a pair of silk panties in one hand and trying without much success to hide a piece of paper in the other. Linna and Sylia were both giving her the evil eye, much to Nene's embarrassment. Listening in, he could hear Linna commenting on Nene's choice.

"Honestly. You know your waist is at least two centimeters larger than that," Linna chided.

Chuckling, Chaz strode casually over to the counter. Both Nene and Linna immediately moved away and returned to their shopping. Sylia looked Chaz up and down for a moment.

"May I help you?" she asked, obviously unimpressed by his attire.

Hmm… Now that he was here he didn't have the slightest idea what to say. If he just came out and told her what he knew, they probably wouldn't handle it well. But it was the only card he had to play. I'll have to be subtle, he decided. "I'm looking for something special," he replied carefully.

Her smile seemed a little strained. "Most people in this shop are. Could you be more specific?" her tone implied he'd better get the point quickly.

'So much for subtle.' He smiled. "I'm looking for some night wear for four beautiful ladies."

Sylia frowned. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

Chaz put on a show of trying to think. "Well, the four women aren't built all alike. So I'll need something in white for a woman about your size, something in pink for a woman about the size of that girl over there...," Chaz waved absently at Nene, "...something in green for a woman about the size of her friend there..." he continued with another casual wave this time in Linna's direction, "..and something in blue for a singer I know."

The color drained slightly from Sylia's face. "I'm not sure I have anything that would do. Perhaps you could try another store?" He better not mean what she thought he did.

Chaz sighed. He hadn't really expected much more. "Well, thank you anyway. But if what I need isn't here. It isn't anyplace." Chaz turned and walked out.

Nene and Linna gradually drifted back to counter. Sylia was straining to keep the shock off her face. "Come upstairs we might have a problem," she said tightly.

"So," Nene asked later in the upstairs meeting room, "what do we do about him?"

"I don't think he's a major problem for now. If he had wanted to blackmail us he would have been much more up front about it," Sylia replied evenly.

"What about the job?" Linna asked.

"It's USSD again. Someone beat them to the Black Box and recovered it from the ruins of Aqua-City. I suspect it's probably GENOM. That explosion today is probably connected somehow," Sylia replied.

Priss looked up from where Mackie was putting a bandage on her hand. "GENOM, huh? So we get another crack at them." She punched her hand in emphasis and immediately regretted it.

Linna looked from Priss to Sylia. "But aren't they too big for us?" she pouted "Besides I'm not to keen on this payment on delivery stuff."

Nene, still wearing her AD police uniform, stood up and clenched her hands. "I'll do it! I go nuts watching those AD police clowns."

Sylia nodded. "Well then, the two of you should get started right away," she looked at Nene. "Nene crack into the AD police database," she turned to her brother. "Mackie, you can help her with the passwords."

Nene and Mackie looked at each other. "OK."

Sylia looked at Linna. "See what you can find out from your friend in class."

Linna nodded. She'd planned on talking to Irene anyway.

"That's no fun," Priss griped.

Linna rose. "Well then I'm going to class. I've got a friend to cheer up."

"We could use someone to have a chat with OUR mysterious friend," Sylia said to Priss.

Priss stood and headed for the door. "I'll do it. You said he's on foot. He couldn't have gotten too far," she said as she ran out.

Sylia watched the meeting break up and wondered what to do about their 'friend'.

Priss stepped out the side door of the Silky Doll and started towards her bike. She didn't make it half-way there when she saw a disconsolate figure sitting in the alley next to the garage. She walked over to him and nudged him with her foot. The figure didn't even look up. "I figured it wouldn't take Sylia too long to send somebody to watch me." He looked up into her startled eyes. "Hiya Priss. Pull up a piece of pavement, I'm not going anywhere," he said sullenly.

Priss hesitated a moment, then cautiously sat down on the opposite side of the narrow alley facing him. She pulled her legs up to her chest and waited. Chaz just sat there looking up at her occasionally.

"What do you want?" Priss asked, exasperated at his continual silence.

Chaz smiled humorlessly. "I'd like to go home. But that doesn't seem too likely." He pulled in a deep breath. "I've often wondered what it would be like to be here. Now that I'm here, I've found it's not at all like I thought it would be."

Priss, not sure how to take that comment, nervously moved her hand toward the opening in her riding suit.

"Don't bother to pull that gun of yours Ms. Asagiri. I'm not a threat. And certainly not a boomer." He grinned mischievously. "Besides, you might reinjure your hand pulling it too fast. Didn't anyone ever tell you not to wrestle boomers? You're lucky all it did was tear a little cartilage."

Priss's hand snapped away from the opening liked she'd been burned. "What? How? Who are you?" She stood up angrily. "Why the hell are you doing this?"

Chaz looked up his eyes locking on hers. Deep in her gut Priss felt something shift. There was something about those eyes. They seemed to burn straight into her.

"Please, sit down Ms. Asagiri," Chaz said in a soothing voice.

Priss found herself sitting without conscious thought. Startled, she realized that he'd just forced her to sit. "How the hell did you do that?" she demanded.

Chaz blinked than looked startled. "Sorry. Didn't mean to do that." He looked abashed. "Look. Isn't it enough to know I don't mean you and your friends any harm? I didn't come to make trouble you know," he paused. "I do seem to have fallen into more than my share however," he muttered. Looking up to her eye's again he continued, "I was actually looking for some help."

Priss gazed at him thoughtfully for a few moments. "No, it isn't enough. The fact that you appear to know some of our secrets makes you dangerous," she paused "Who are you anyway? I can't just go around calling you Mr. Nobody"

"No, I suppose not." He smiled catching the joke. Who would have thought Priss read Ulysses? "I'm definitely not a Homeric figure. My name is Charles Stitman. My friends call me Chaz." He looked into her eyes and smiled again. "I would prefer it if you called me that."

Priss thought about that statement and what it implied for a moment. "Fair enough for now...Chaz. What say you and I go get a burger and talk?" she stood up and offered her hand warily to help him up.

A brief smile crossed his face. "I'm not exactly dressed for a restaurant am I?" he said grasping her hand and standing. The sudden pull of weight startled Priss momentarily and she stumbled forward. Chaz reached out a hand and caught her shoulder. "Steady there. You all right?"

"You just weighed more than I thought you would, that's all," Priss explained as she shrugged away from the hand on her shoulder. Somehow his nearness bothered her. It made her heart twitch and her gut tie itself in knots. She shook away the feeling. No reason to feel that way. She hardly knew him and he wasn't that handsome. But...there was something that made her want to like him.

Chaz hardly noticed her discomfort. The part that did dismissed it as suspicion. Probably still trying to deal with me knowing who they are, he decided. "I wonder how Nene and Mackie are doing on their research?" he wondered out loud.

Priss contained her reaction only through extreme will power. Knowing how she hurt her hand could have been coincidence. Knowing what had just happened inside meant he was listening in without triggering any of Sylia's safeguards. Yet one more topic for discussion. There wasn't much they could do about him at the moment, short of killing him. She stopped suddenly and smacked her head. "Hell, I was going to ask Leon about that lab explosion."

Chaz hid a grin "If you call him now you might still be able to catch him at the office. It shouldn't be that hard to convince him to join you for lunch." The trick might be to keep Leon from running over people on his way to meet you. Chaz grinned at the thought.

Priss stopped next to her bike. "You know Leon?" she asked carefully. If Leon knew the things this guy seemed to, life could start getting awkward.

Chaz waved vaguely. "Only in the same way that I know the rest of you."

Priss stopped, torn between her desire to know what THAT meant and the desire to torment Leon.

He grinned. "Go ahead. I know how much you'll love teasing him. I'll still be around if you want to talk to me later."

Yeah, I'll just bet you will. Priss threw her leg over her bike and eyed him narrowly. "You're not trying to get rid of me are you?" She wasn't sure whether she wanted to see him again or not. Mysteries weren't her style. To her taste maybe, but not her style.

A wry smile crossed Chaz's face. "Who me? Avoid the tender ministrations of a beauty such as yourself? Perish the thought. I'll just hang out here for a while. It's not as if I have anything to do," Or any place to go, Chaz added to himself.

"Hmm.. Well here." She said handing him a couple of bills. "Buy a pair shoes so you don't stick out so much."

Briefly, autonomy warred with practicality. He gave a mental shrug. Hard to be autonomous when you have nothing going for you but the clothes on your back. "Thanks. I will," he said gratefully, taking the cash.

Priss nodded once and put on her helmet. "I'll see you in a couple of hours." She suddenly had a thought. "What are you doing tonight?" she asked quickly before she could change her mind.

"Thought I'd wash my hair," he quipped. "Why?"

Priss's eyes sparkled with laughter and restrained vengeance. You're going to pay for that one. "Want to see my band play tonight?"

Chaz's eyes widened and a heartfelt smile spread over his face. Would he ever! "Are you kidding? Sure, I'd love it!" he said enthusiastically.

Priss suppressed a smile. Except for a certain ADP officer, it was a trip to meet a fan. "Great! I'll pick you up here at eight," she said over her shoulder as she drove away.

Looking down at the bills in his hand he realized that unless he bought shoes made out of silver he would likely have quite a bit of money left over. She's probably thinking about that money from USSD, he decided. He needed a new set of clothes anyway.

Five hours later, clean and wearing his new clothes, Chaz stepped out of the onsen where he had washed and changed clothes. A deep sigh passed his lips. Much better, he decided. A worried expression crossed his face. Somehow he had gained about twenty pounds of muscle and he didn't float in the water the way he used to. More to the point, he sank like the proverbial rock. Not that he should complain. His weight had always been a little low. He just didn't like the idea that someone had played with his body so much.

Now all I have to do is kill some time and find my way back before eight. It's 1635.02 now so I've got three hours and twenty. . five. . minutes. He hadn't looked down at his new watch. He had just known what time it was. He didn't even question that it was correct. As he thought about it he could count the seconds, even the milliseconds, ticking by as accurately as a metronome. What the hell had Mason done to him? So far the changes seemed innocuous enough, even beneficial. But the fact remained that something major had been done to him. A voice in the back of his head reminded him of the doctors words. "Flatline," the doctor had said. The experiment, whatever it had been, had shut down his brain for a while. Anything like that was bound to have severe repercussions. He felt fine though. Resolving to question Sylia about it if he ever got the chance, Chaz pushed the problem from his mind for the moment.

Now, which way was it back to the Silky Doll? That way. He knew with the infallibility that he knew the time. One more thing to worry about later, he sighed. Well, it could come in handy anyway. A kind of anti-Ryoga sense. He chuckled anime-tedly to himself as he walked back to the boutique.

Linna stood next to the mirror, holding a Chinese dress up in front of herself. She was trying to watch Irene and look at the dress at the same time. She'd been trying all day long to cheer up Irene. The young woman had been so depressed that afternoon after their workout and conversation. It looked like she was finally beginning to feel better though. Linna could see it in her eyes. Well, after a little more shopping they could go get some dinner to finish off the night.

Priss pulled her bike up to the sidewalk and motioned Chaz to get on. "And watch the hands," she warned him gravely.

"Hey, believe me, I would like to keep them attached," Chaz said as he put his hands around her waist.

Priss smiled under her helmet. This evening might not be as bad as she had thought. He had cleaned himself up and gotten a new set of clothes. If not handsome, he at least looked presentable now. And his arms did feel good about her waist. What was she thinking? She didn't know anything about this guy! Why does he affect me this way? Ah well. Mystery men had always given her a little thrill. The less she knew, the more she wanted to. Priss hated secrets. Unless, of course, they were hers. She would be fine once she got to know him better.

Mason stood over the final assembly area and watched with a predatory grin as the final components of the Super-Boomer were checked out. He'd waited a long time for this. With the Black-Box installed the Super-Boomer should be unbeatable! The old man had definitely taken the long view on this one. Even the major expense of liberating the Black-Box from USSD was worth it for this, he thought as he rubbed his hand across the steely hide. With the Black-Box installed in the Super-Boomer's tough exterior, GENOM would be unstoppable. Mason smiled. Well, maybe not completely unstoppable. There was always his own project. Hidden behind the one-way mirror of the observation booth Mason smiled coldly.

Chaz was ecstatic. This club is great! It's even better than in the video! And there's Priss up there on stage singing her heart out! Each word was crystal clear and radiating an emotionality that never came through in the videos or the soundtracks. Priss and Chaz had arrived before the club opened for the night. Priss, using her good looks, some subtle persuasion and a little outright bullying, had gotten him in despite the manager's protests. The other members of the band had introduced themselves briefly and gone back to their stage set up. They were obviously curious but determined to give Priss her privacy. Priss had sat on a stool in the center of the stage, oblivious to almost everything, stroking her guitar and checking her sound equipment.

After the bar had opened, Priss had come down and told him she wouldn't be able to talk to him until after the first set. After the initial disappointment, things had only gotten better. Throughout the evening he'd had to turn down requests to sit, dance or drink with quite a few women. Many of them were more than just attractive. Chaz found the attention both flattering and puzzling. He had never considered himself handsome and his experience with dealing with this kind of situation was, effectively, nil. Moreover men who, even to his untutored eye, were more handsome than he weren't getting nearly the same attention. Maybe the bar manager had decided to get even with Priss by seeing if he could get her jealous. Good luck. Priss didn't seem to see him that way. He frowned slightly. It wasn't a very good explanation. However, it was the only he could come up with. Taking another drag on his beer he decided to forget about it for now and just enjoy it while it lasted. He could dissect it later.

A lock of blonde hair obscured her eyes momentarily as she threw her head back in ecstasy. Priss was flying. The only time she ever felt better than this was when she trashing boomers in her hardsuit. When she sang, all the agony of her life poured out of her soul and into her voice and she felt as free as if she was newborn. Slowly her eyes scanned the crowd. They were with her in spirit, she could see it in their faces. Their roars of approval when she finished each song were exhilarating. Like a high without drugs.

Where's Chaz anyway? Her eyes narrowed. Oh, there he is. Her eyes narrowed even more. What IS he doing with that girl? She suppressed a flash of ire. She watched as the girl wandered off. I wonder why he turned her down?

Laughing at her own fickleness, she completed her scan of the room. The band picked up the tempo for the last number of the set and Priss returned her attention to her singing. Finishing the set she put her guitar in its stand and walked down to the main floor. She pulled lightly at her slightly sweaty, blonde wig trademark. Damn thing was hotter than hell. Sometimes it was more trouble than it was worth.

"That was fantastic!" Chaz said as the singer sat down next to him, to the obvious envy of every other man in the bar. "Much better than the CDs!" Some of the songs he'd never heard before.

Priss's face hardened slightly. "Where exactly did you GET a CD of my songs?" she asked tightly.

Chaz brain froze for a moment. He'd forgotten about that. "Ah. .It's just one of the many things I'm going to have to explain I'm afraid."

Priss let out a hint of a Cheshire cat grin. Gotcha! She couldn't have asked for a better lead in. "How about right now?" Priss asked as she waved for a drink.

"Now?" Chaz squeaked nervously. "What if someone overhears?"

She controlled the predatory grin that threatened to spread across her lips. Ah. Ah. You aren't going to wiggle out that easily. He'd been ducking her questions all evening and Priss was determined to nail him down while she had the chance. "Relax. We can go backstage. No one will bother us there until the next set."

"Won't your band get suspicious?" he asked hopefully.

Priss grinned and sidled closer, enjoying his obvious discomfort. "So what if they do?" she rubbed his shoulder with hers. She suppressed a laugh as he nearly fell out of his chair. "Seriously. It won't be a problem. They know I never do that sort of thing during a gig." Usually, she admitted.

"I suppose so," Chaz said with the voice of a man going to the gallows. He looked around as Priss stood up. "I thought Linna tried to make it to all of your concerts?"

"Occasionally," Priss said off-handily. "She's trying to cheer up a friend tonight though'."

Oh FUCK! Chaz's eyes widened. "Not tonight! It's too soon!"

Priss looked down at him. "What do you mean too soon?"

"We've got to get out of here!" he said standing up and moving towards the door.

"Wait!" Priss said as she grabbed his arm. "Where are you going?" He wasn't going to get away that easily!

Chaz continued to force his way through the thick crowd towards the exit. "Damn! I thought I had more time! Irene is going to get killed if we don't get out of here."

Priss pulled hard on his arm to no effect. "What do you mean killed? Who's Irene?" she asked as she added more force.

"Linna's friend." Chaz pushed free of the crowd and lunged for the exit pulling Priss behind him. "Someone in GENOM decided that she was becoming a nuisance." He paused and spotted Priss's bike. "In about an hour one of those boomers you played with this morning is going to kill her."

Priss let go. "I'm just supposed to take your word for it? How do you know?" she demanded irately.

"Come on. I'll explain on the way," Chaz said putting a leg over her bike.

Priss stepped up to the bike. "This had better be good."

"You ARE out of your mind!" she yelled over her shoulder as they sharply rounded a corner. "You honestly expect me to believe that crap?" She reached down again and tried vainly to pull down her leather mini. Damn thing never was meant for riding.

"No, quite frankly." He shrugged with his arms around her waist. "If I were you, I wouldn't believe it either." He hadn't even told her the worst part yet.

Priss began to slow the bike. "Then why should I..." She was cut off by a blinking light on her bike. "Hold that thought." Priss flipped a switch on the dash and Mackie's voice came into her helmet. There was a brief pause. "You're going to have to explain this to Sylia later," she said angrily as she accelerated the bike and raced down the street. "Linna just called and said a black car tried to run her down." OK. So maybe that part was true. What about the rest?

Chaz leaned forward. "It's not after Linna. She was just in the way. How far is it?"

Priss swerved the bike around a slow moving car and accelerated to the bike's top speed. "A few seconds from here." If this stupid traffic breaks up that is. God she hated riding in Mega-Tokyo. Give her the open highway any day!

Irene crouched, crying in fear and frustration. The strange black car was still following her. Using her fear, it had tricked her into a section of deserted highway. Whoever was in it was going to kill her just like they had killed her fiancée. She was sure of it. She tried to stand but her legs wouldn't carry her weight. Through eyes near blinded by tears she saw the black car pull up to the curb beside her. Off in the distance she heard the whine of a motorcycle and the sound of Linna's voice calling to her. The door to the car opened. Irene looked up as a tall blonde woman in black wearing a feral expression stepped out of the car. Irene gasped as the woman almost casually hauled her up by her shirtfront with one hand. Terror filled her as she watched the other hand flex in front of her and long, humming claws project from its fingertips.

"Shit! We're on the wrong level!" Priss yelled. Up ahead she could make out the heads of Linna's friend and the razor-doll on top of the overpass. "We won't make it to the top in time!" Behind her she felt the balance shift as Chaz kneeled on the seat. "What the hell are you doing?" she screamed as she adjusted to the change in balance.

Holding tight to Priss's shoulders, Chaz crouched on the back of the seat and pointed at an empty loading ramp in front of the overpass. "Go as fast as you can and keep the bike steady. With any luck I can catch the rail and get to the top before that thing kills her." I hope. More likely. Splat!

"You ARE crazy!" Priss said as she raced her engine. "You'll be splattered all over the side of the bridge!" Priss said as if in confirmation of his fears.

NOT what he had wanted to hear. "You got a better idea?" he said as he let go of her shoulders and balanced like a cat on the back of the seat.

Linna could just make out the figure of Irene being held up by a tall blonde woman. Desperately she tried to increase her pace. Praying she could make it in time. . .Knowing she wouldn't. Running, she screamed Irenes name hoping to distract the boomer.

The boomer's hand flashed in front of Iran's face drawing a thin line of blood across one cheek. Time seemed to slow as the boomer leaned forward to lick the line of blood. Somewhere she could hear Linna's voice calling her. Nearby a motorcycle raced. Its engine a full-throated roar. Slowly, the boomers claws dropped lower to finish the job.

Priss felt a sudden lurch as she simultaneously hit the ramp and felt her rear tire compress and sharply rebound as Chaz launched himself from the bike to the bridge. The recoil from the jump threw her landing off and her rear tire touched down at an angle to her direction, Priss lost control of the bike as the traction from the rear wheel jerked the front of the bike around sharply. The bike, still rocking with the force of the launch, forced Priss to swerve quickly in order to try regaining control of it. Still struggling, she skidded underneath the overpass. The bike, now completely off balance, slipped out from under her. This is gonna hurt, Priss thought as she kicked her leg clear of the falling bike.

His leap from the back of the bike had carried him higher than he had thought it would. But, still not quite high enough. It looked like Priss might be right after all. Reaching forward with his hands, he touched the top of the railing along the edge of the overpass. Using that as a vault, he turned some of his forward motion into the needed lift and aimed his feet at the boomer's chest as he came over the edge of the overpass.

The boomer paused in mid-attack. Half-turning, the boomer saw, out of the corner of its eye, a human vault the railing on the other side of the road and, aim his feet at it's head. Dropping its target to better be able to defend itself, it turned as the human skimmed the hood of its car and crashed feet first into its chest.

Chaz's legs knocked the boomer back away from Irene and against the railing. His momentum expended, Chaz dropped to the ground and rolled away. OK genius, now what? He ducked the wild swing of the rapidly recovering boomer. I'll be damned! he thought as he bounced to his feet. That fanfic was right. Up close they DO look like terminators in drag.

Irene, freed by the boomer, slowly pulled herself upright and watched in terror as her savior narrowly ducked the clawed lunge of the enraged boomer. Below her she heard Linna urging her to run but she couldn't move.

Chaz, bleeding slightly form a couple cuts, spared a glance to his side as the boomer aimed a kick at his head. What's the matter with her? She should have run off by now. He stepped inside the kick, grabbing the boomer's arm and pulling it into a sacrifice throw designed to toss it over the car.

The boomer was confused. This fight should have been over by now. Any of the small hits it had made should have stopped the human before it. And the new target was entirely too fast. Coming to a conclusion, the boomer upped the threat rating as its body was again tossed over the car. Landing agilely on the other side, the boomer sprang back over the car, claws extended for the kill.

Linna finished her run up the stairs. She hoped Priss was OK. That fall had looked pretty unpleasant. But Irene couldn't take care of herself, Priss could. Linna grabbed Irenes hand and started to pull her away as the boomer and someone else came together. Quicker than Linna could follow, the man's hands snaked out and grabbed the boomer by the wrists. Rolling backwards, he slammed the boomer's head into the pavement, cracking both. The boomer, slightly stunned by the impact, rolled slowly to its feet. A sudden boom of sound broke the stillness, and the boomer lurched forward as if drunk. A second boom followed and gray bio-fluid started to flow down the boomer's body.

As the third shot rang out, Chaz tackled the boomer at the waist, knocking it over the railing to the street below. As it fell, the boomer's hand locked on his wrist, pulling him over as well. "Oh Shit!" he gasped as he missed a grab at the railing.

Priss looked on in horror as the boomer pulled Chaz over. That ledge was twenty feet up and it looked like he was likely to land on his head! She fumbled at her bike for a clip and started to reload her gun. If that thing survived the fall it wouldn't be alive for long!

Turning in the air, Chaz kicked his legs between himself and the boomer. Together they fell and together they landed, heavily, the boomer on the bottom. The boomer's chest, already damaged by the shots from Priss's gun, crumpled from the impact, spraying bio-fluid everywhere.

Chaz stood up and checked himself. The clothes were a write-off, unless you liked the grunge look. Pretty good apart from that. He had a couple scrapes that itched a little, but nothing serious, he decided.

Priss, however, looked in much worse shape as she clutched a light pole next to her fallen bike. With one hand she held the light pole as she tried to reload her gun with the other. She hadn't had time to change out of her stage outfit, and the leather mini and top obviously hadn't protected her much from the crash. Good thing she was wearing her helmet, he noted. That scrape on the side of the former protective gear looked nasty. The road rash wasn't bad but it had to be painful. On the other hand, her right leg looked VERY painful. The blue-black bruise along the side proclaimed that it was undoubtedly broken. A lesser person wouldn't have been able to move at all. As Chaz walked up to her, she frantically tried to reload the gun. "Relax, Priss, it's just me," Chaz soothed.

"Get away from me!" She was nearly in a panic. "Only a boomer or a boomeroid could have beaten that thing!" She finished snapping the cartridge in place and leveled the gun at him.

Chaz risked a slight grin. It didn't seem to help. "Now you know that's not true. If you hadn't had your gun that thing would have ripped me apart by now. C'mon. If I had intended to hurt you I had plenty of chances to do it earlier."

Linna walked up to the pair, supporting a hysterically weeping Irene. "Give him a break Priss. We can find out what's what when we take him back to Sylia's," she said, despite having misgivings of her own. After all, he had risked his life to save her friend. "We've got to get Priss to a hospital," she said to Chaz.

Chaz agreed. Priss was in no shape to do much of anything. She'd lost a bit of blood and the pain had to be terrible. "OK. I'll carry her. You tell me what you want to do." He reached down and picked up a weakly struggling Priss, trying to avoid touching her abrasions. Her strength had just about left her, but he could see in her eyes that she would have pulled the trigger if she could have. "Just settle down Priss. We'll have you at a hospital in no time." Her eyes just glared back. Oh well.

Linna walked back, still comforting Irene. "Sylia said that Mackie's on his way here in the van. We're supposed to go back with him." She glanced at Priss. "Him too Priss. She wants to talk to him." Priss just looked resigned and turned away. Linna shrugged. He was in her good guy book for now. She'd let Sylia sort it out.

A few minutes later Mackie pulled up in the van and looked at the mess. What was that mess in the road anyway? A few more seconds inspection gave him an answer that his mind flatly denied. Christ! It looked like a safe fell on that boomer! Turning from the carnage, he opened the door and helped Priss, Linna and Irene into the back. Linna grabbed the med-kit and started to bandage Priss. Chaz walked over to the remains of the boomer. Reaching down, he easily threw it over his shoulder and walked back to the van. "Are you sure this thing is dead?" he asked tentatively. It looked pretty dead, but from what he'd seen in the anime you could never tell when a half dead boomer would get up and rip your throat out.

"Positive," Mackie replied. The boomer that could function in the shape this one was in had yet to roll off the assembly line. "What do you want to do with it?" Mackie said examining the boomer's remains curiously.

Chaz shrugged. "Give me a tarp and I'll strap it on top of the van. If we leave it here GENOM will clean up the mess and we won't have anything to work with. By taking it with us they'll have to worry what happened to it."

Mackie shook his head. "That's no good. GENOM puts tracers in every one of these things. We'll just dump it somewhere and come back with better equipment later."

Chaz stared hard at the corpse. "Tracers? You mean like this thing?" he asked as he pulled a small plas-steel capsule free from the former boomers innards.

Mackie took the capsule and examined it carefully. With a swift motion he chucked it up to the still running black car. "Yeah. Like that. How'd you spot it?"

Chaz shrugged. "It was the only thing glowing."

Mackie was quiet for the rest of the ride back.

"Well, she's got a broken leg, a minor concussion and several pieces of her skin were abraded away," Sylia remarked as she walked back into the living room. "Other than that she's fine. She seems more pissed off about losing her bike than anything else." She sat down between Mackie and Nene opposite Chaz. "I gave her and Irene a sedative to let them both sleep. They'll be out until morning." She looked at Chaz who just sat there staring into his cup of tea. "Priss told me the story you told her."

Chaz raised his eyes to meet hers "I'm afraid I didn't get to tell her all of it." He looked back down at his cooling tea. "Where I come from all of this is a semi-popular science-fiction series." His eyes moved from one face to another. "All of it." A silence fell across the room.

"Given that we could believe that where does this leave you?" Nene asked. She wasn't sure whether or not to be offended by the 'semi-popular' remark. It was all so unreal.

"In Wonderland," Chaz replied without a trace of a smile. "I haven't the slightest clue how I got here. So my odds of finding a way back are remote...Very remote," he sighed. "And the other part I worry about is what Mason was up to. He messed around with my body pretty heavily. I don't know what he did and quite frankly it scares the piss out of me."

Sylia looked up. "Brian J. Mason? The one Irene attacked?" She watched Chaz nod slowly. "You said GENOM performed an experiment on you. Are you sure it was Mason?"

"Yeah. I'm sure. I saw the bastard's face right before the lights went out. He's a featured player in all of this." He waved airily. "I don't know how much my being here will change things though." He nodded towards the bedroom where Irene was sleeping. "In the story I remember she wasn't supposed to survive." Linna gasped sharply as Chaz continued, "the Knight Sabers are supposed to win. But you have your share of tragedies along the way. Some of them are necessary. But I don't know which are crucial."

Sylia frowned. "So you aren't certain what things you should tell us?" she summed up.

Chaz nodded. "Right. I'm kind of a Cassandra. Except that my prophecies are going to become more unreliable as time goes on. Just my being here is going to change things." Chaz sipped at his tea and grimaced at the bitter brew. "I could seriously screw things up if I'm not careful. Maybe even enough so that GENOM wins."

Sylia leaned back. "So what do we do with you? You're too dangerous to let run loose. You also have nowhere to go."

Chaz smiled "Is this where I'm supposed to ask to join the Knight Sabers? I have to admit the thought had crossed my mind." He shook his head. "But it's not a great idea. I'm not cut out to be a hero."

Linna broke in. "What about Irene? Doesn't that show some heroism?"

He waved the argument away. "A momentary lapse. Heroes tend to die very gruesomely. Besides, I have no idea what Mason did to me. Whatever it was it might make me unreliable." Why don't you tell them the truth? You're so scared that you might die here; you're almost pissing yourself.

Sylia stood up. "I don't know about offering you a job, but we can put your mind to rest about everything else anyway. Nene, why don't you come with us. Linna stay up here and keep an eye on Irene and Priss. If there's any change we'll be in the infirmary."

Chaz sat, stripped to the waist, in the center of the small infirmary. When Sylia placed a small metal sensor against his chest Chaz sucked in a breath. "Man that's cold! I swear people keep those things in a refrigerator."

Sylia pulled the instrument away from his skin. "Your heartbeat, blood-pressure and respiration all seem normal. Nene is running a few tests on the blood sample now." She shined a light into his eyes. "So far everything seems normal enough."

Chaz stuck out his tongue as Sylia wielded a tongue depressor. "Yeah, perfectly normal. If you discount the fact that I jumped almost ten feet straight up from a standing start and wrestled a boomer to a standstill. Don't you have more sophisticated tests you can run?"

Sylia had some suspicions of her own but refrained from mentioning them. "Yes, we do and we'll get to them. You always start with the easy tests first. They're cheap and they tell you where to look. It gives you a baseline. When you deviate from the baseline, that's when we start with the heavier tests."

Nene walked into the room wearing a white lab coat and holding a datapad. "Well, with the exception of a few repair nanites it's perfectly normal type O- human blood."

Sylia looked surprisedly at Nene "Repair nanites? Is that all? No muscle or nerve augmentation hormones?" This blew her theory to hell. There should have been much more.

"Nope. Just normal nanites like the ones the hospitals put in rich people to keep them healthy." Nene looked at Chaz. "You should be glad. Most people pay millions for the process... What's wrong?"

Chaz looked pale and very upset. "You said that the blood was type O? No mistake?" he asked in a shaky voice.

Nene shook her head in negation. "I'm no medic but even I can run a basic blood test. Definitely type O. Why?" She pulled up a chair to sit down.

Chaz looked up at Sylia and sighed heavily. "You better scrap that baseline Sylia and go right to the heavy tests. My blood type should have been A+"

Nene looked stricken. "You mean they changed your blood type? But that's not possible! You'd kill someone if you did that." She looked up at Sylia. "Wouldn't you?"

Sylia looked down at Chaz. "OK we'll start with an CAT-scan." She hoped she was wrong. If it was what she thought it might be, there was no telling how he would take it.

Nene and Sylia sat in chairs in front of a large computer console. Chaz looked over Sylia's shoulder as she and Nene tried to piece together what the machine was telling them. Nene nodded at the image. "It LOOKS like a perfectly natural human body. That is until you notice some anomalies." She pointed at a blurred section of the image. "Here, and in some other parts of the image, you get an interference pattern. But nothing seems to be generating them. Unless you're looking for something you'd probably assume the machine just didn't get it right. When you try to screen the interference pattern out..." She did something complicated to the console. "...this is what you get." Almost the entire image disappeared. "The whole thing is a fake. Something is shielding the interior from the scan and puts up a false image in its place."

Sylia nodded. "What about the MRI scan? Did it give us a better image?"

Nene looked up at Chaz. "Yeah, But it's just as fake. Someone went to a lot of trouble to do this. It would take a while to set up."

"But I was only attached to the machine for a couple of minutes!" Chaz recoiled "How could this much have been done to me in such a short time?"

Sylia looked at Chaz. "One thing they couldn't hide was this." She pointed at a line at the bottom of the screen. "This measures body density based on overall weight and volume. According to this you're too heavy, but not anywhere near as heavy as say a C-class boomer. You weigh about 30 more than you should, not enough to be easily noticeable by anybody not looking for it." She pulled in a breath. "And then there's this." She punched up an entirely new set of graphs. "This is your response time. The blue line represents normal human response. Yours is the red line. Most boomers are a bit slower than a human. Your response time is over twice as fast and was still climbing when we finished." It also showed signs that it was completely controlled, not reflex.

Chaz looked shocked. "But when I fought that boomer, it moved faster than I did!"

Sylia shook her head. "I checked. That boomer series, the fastest in the industry, was about fifty percent faster than an average human. I think that it's more likely that you hadn't finished adjusting to the change. That threw your timing off," she explained. Her eyes shifted away from Chaz to Nene. "I want you to go upstairs now. I need to talk to Chaz alone for a while," she said gently.

Nene looked upset but nodded obediently and headed upstairs.

Chaz watched as she walked out of sight. In a few moments he heard the sound of the elevator taking Nene up. He waited until he couldn't hear it anymore than turned towards Sylia. "It wasn't because you didn't want her to hear. You're afraid how I'm going to take what you're going to tell me aren't you?" he asked calmly. Sylia nodded sadly. "That's what I thought. When the blood test came up O- I started to worry." He stared into Sylia's eyes. "How much human is left?" he asked shakily.

Sylia looked away. "Probably less than you think. From what some of the other tests have shown I'd say that Mason used a very risky technique on you. To my knowledge it's only been done to a few others," she hesitated. "From what I can through he took it a step farther. .He.."

Chaz interrupted "Put your father's neurophages into my brain. They broke down the neurons and recorded everything in them," Sylia only nodded. "And when they were finished the old me was dead for all practical purposes."

Sylia nodded again, her eyes filled with sympathy.

Tears began to fill his eyes. "Then they moved all the neurophages out of my body through the blood stream and reassembled them in this body right?" Not even a nod. Chaz started to cry. "The bastard killed me." He sat down heavily in the chair. "I thought I'd escaped! But he'd already killed me!" Chaz sobbed. Sylia sat down next to him, put her arm around his shoulders and held him. Once upon a time she'd been almost where he sat now. She knew what it was like to face it alone.

After a while Chaz looked up. There was no sign left that he had been crying. "What kind of body did he put me in?" he asked, preparing for the worst.

Sylia tapped a few keys on the console without moving her other arm from around his neck. "As best as I can determine it's a new type based on the frame of a heavily modified 33-S. A sexaroid." Something was bothering her about the design though. Somewhere before she'd seen the style before. What nagged her was that her memory for such things was usually perfect. She'd figure it out later.

Chaz groaned. Just when you thought you could handle things. "Great," he said in a choked voice. "How long do I have before the need for blood kills me?" He wasn't willing to kill to survive.

Sylia pointed at the screen "Most 33-S's only need blood when they got hurt or highly stressed. In your case, that's one of the things that they modified. You aren't dependent on blood or much else for that matter. At a guess you could go without food water and maybe even air for a few days before you needed to recharge. Even a normal 33-S can do it for a while. All the other statistics are pretty much guesswork. If I could find a datajack in you I could check them. But you're very well shielded. Unless you do something to show them, even a doctor won't notice you aren't human anymore."

He looked up wearily. "One person knows."

Sylia nodded. "Priss and maybe Nene as well. Well I'm sure that they'll realize it's not your fault," she said encouragingly.

Chaz looked incredulous. "Priss? From what I understand she can barely tolerate cyborgs."

Sylia frowned. "You might be surprised."

Chaz nodded. He was unconvinced but unwilling to argue. "So what else did they change?"

Sylia stood up. "I'll leave you with the computer to find that out for yourself." She walked towards the door. When Chaz's voice stopped her she was just touching the lock plate.

"Sylia, Is there a job opening for a male Knight Saber?" he asked quietly. "I think I might have a reason to join."

Sylia nodded knowing he could see her reflection in the screen. "There's one open. We'll talk about it later."

Priss woke up in a darkened room and groaned. The pain from her injuries had faded to a dull ache after Sylia had dosed her with painkillers and treated her scrapes. At least she didn't have to worry about scarring. Wasn't modern medicine wonderful? All you had do was put up with an itch you couldn't scratch or even touch until the skin was healed. The cast bothered her more. Sylia had said it could come off once the bone sealant had finished. She shook her head. There was something she had been about to tell Sylia before she'd been put out.

Chaz! She had to tell Sylia about Chaz! They couldn't let him run around loose. It! They couldn't let IT run around loose. However much it wanted her to believe it was human Priss knew the truth. She struggled to a sitting position ignoring the protests of her abused body. Reaching out she felt for the lamp she'd seen before they turned out the lights.

Light streamed in from the world outside and assaulted Priss's eyes as Sylia opened up the door to the room. Wearing a neat tan blouse and skirt Sylia carried a tray with breakfast on it. She flipped on the overhead light and walked into the room. "Feeling a little better Priss?" the dark hared woman asked in a clinical manner.

Priss relaxed her body against the headboard of the bed. How the heck did Sylia always manage to look like she just stepped out of the dressing room? "Just the person I wanted to see."

Sylia put the tray with eggs, toast, juice and tea across Priss's lap and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Really? What do you need to talk to me about?" Sylia said almost too casually.

The way she said it set off alarms in the back of Priss's head. She's expecting me to tell her. Damn it! "You already know don't you?" Priss sighed at Sylia's nod. "And here I was, worrying about you." Grabbing a piece of toast from the tray she continued, "So what did you do with it?" Concentrating on her breakfast, Priss completely missed the look of irritation that swept across Sylia's face. "I mean, you did kill it didn't you?" She looked up and froze as she saw the look in Sylia's eyes. She'd never seen them blaze like that before. A very small piece of her mind told her she didn't want to see it again either.

Carefully keeping the anger out of her voice Sylia replied. "No. I haven't killed HIM," her voice grew cold. "I expected better of you Priss. Really I did." She stood abruptly. "It's not fair to blame a person for something they had no say in." Memories washed though her of her father's face.

Priss snorted "Come off it Sylia. He's a boomer for Christ's sake! A heavy boomeroid at the very least! Whatever they did to him at GENOM took away any claim to humanity he had." She stabbed a piece of egg on the plate. "So, it's not his fault. So what? Life's like that! You heard what Linna said. He's dangerous all by himself. And on top of that he knows about us. What else is there to do? We can't just let him go!"

"No we can't," Sylia's voice softened. "That's why he's joining us."

Priss choked on her tea. "You can't be serious! What is he supposed to do? Put on a hardsuit and kick all the OTHER boomers asses?"

Sylia reached to the side and moved a chair over. Leaning over Priss she spoke calmly and clearly. "Have you ever known me to be less than serious?" she questioned. "His personal problems aside he's a good choice. He's fast, strong and, from what I can tell, fairly smart."

Priss rallied quickly. "I'll say he's strong! Did you see what he did to my bike when he jumped! The suspension couldn't take it! The shocks blew out!" Priss lapsed into silence for a moment.

Sylia stared at Priss thoughtfully. "What's the real reason you don't like him? It's not the bike. It's not just the fact that he's a. ."

"Boomer," came Chaz's voice from the doorway. He walked slowly up to the bed. Somewhere he'd gotten a change of clothes, Priss noted. He was now dressed in jeans and a black denim shirt. "I figured I'd have to talk to you sooner or later," he said pulling up a chair. He sat backwards on it, opposite Sylia and facing Priss. "I think I know what it is she doesn't like," he sighed and looked at Priss. "When we were at the club I remember thinking it was odd that so many women were coming on to me."

Priss's eyes turned away from his before returning his look defiantly. The memory was embarrassing. She'd actually been jealous over a machine for a minute. That was more than embarrassing it was humiliating.

He continued as if he hadn't seen the look of irritation, "I'm in the body of a 33-S boomer now Priss. Do you know what that type is?" Priss slowly shook her head back and forth, trying not to listen. "I'm a sexaroid. A few of the built in systems are designed to attract people. MAKE them want to like me."

Priss looked up startled. She hadn't thought she was subject to such manipulation.

Sylia saw Priss' reaction. "Is that it? That's why you hate him? Because you can't picture yourself attracted to a boomer?"

Chaz looked up to Sylia's face "Sure. When she thought I was human it was OK. But when she found out I was a boomer it meant she had to either change her feelings about boomers in general or hate me. She's hated boomers all her life. It was easier to hate me."

"Damn it! Don't talk about me like I wasn't here!" Priss growled. How could Sylia do this to her? "How would you like it if someone you liked turned out to be something you hated? How would you like it if.."

Chaz interrupted with a roar of his own, "No! How would you like it if someone ripped away your humanity, so that everybody who knows treats you like a dangerous freak? That's certainly what I can expect and you know it." He finished. "You're so worried about changing your world-view. Think about how mine's been changed!" Tears of frustration welled up in his eyes. "You feel angry because of a change of view? Think how I feel!"

Priss looked up at him with the faint gleam of held back tears in her eyes. "I'd be pretty pissed," she admitted and gave a half-hearted grin. "Maybe even furious."

"Damn straight I'm pissed," Chaz said. "Remember when I said I wanted to go home? I can't! There's no place left to go home to now."

Priss remembered. She remembered what it felt like to lose your family and everything else in your life. Her expression softened a little.

Sylia relaxed. The conversation seemed to have passed the critical point. "So now what are you going to do?" she asked Chaz.

"That's one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. I think we found that data jack you were looking for." He rolled up his sleeve. "It should be right under here," he said pointing at a spot on his forearm.

Priss looked. It seemed just like a normal arm, tan and strong. She could even see veins where, beneath the skin, blood pulsed. Where do you draw the line? At what point do you say that's a dangerous boomer and that's not? That's an enemy and that's a...friend? She closed her eyes. "You're still going to pay for my bike you know," she said.

Chaz recognized the effort for what it was and let a small smile grow on his face. "Only if you teach me how to drive one."

"Ride. The term is ride. It's not a car," Priss said testily. Only someone who didn't know squat about bikes would use the word drive.

"Is that a yes?" Chaz teased.

"Don't push me. It's going to take a while." She glared at him. "Besides, I have to recover first."

Chaz nodded. "I don't expect miracles. I'll come by later if you want me to." He got up to go.

Priss relaxed back into the pillows. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

Chaz paused. "Yeah, Me too," he responded and closed the door behind him.

"I should let you rest now," Sylia stood and picked up the empty tray. "Try not to worry about it for now."

Priss lay there in bed with her eyes wide open after Sylia left. Thoughts were running through her head and she couldn't stop them. She turned onto her side and stifled a sob. She'd be damned if she'd cry. The worst part was feeling like she'd lost something. The world had been Priss and the Knight Sabers vs. GENOM and the boomers. Pure, easy, no complications. Where was she going to put that hatred now? What was she going to do now that she was beginning to like a boomer?

Nene's thoughts were jumbled, as she finished walking up the stairs to her apartment. She'd spent the night at Sylia's, working with Mackie on the ADP computer systems. She'd entered the ADP at one of the lowest levels possible and had quickly managed to work her way up to dispatcher. But she needed at least one more promotion to get her own access code for the system. Luckily, she didn't have to work today. Stumbling into the bedroom, she pulled her wrinkled clothes from her body. Sighing with relief she slipped into her bed. Only a few more thoughts to clear out of her skull and she could fade into sleep.

Composing herself underneath the covers, she closed her eyes to think. She still couldn't figure out what GENOM had done to Chaz. Whatever they had done, it was a sure bet the body he was using now wasn't entirely the one he'd started with. Certainly by the legal definition, he'd crossed the line from cyborged human to self-owned boomeroid. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. He seemed nice enough. It was Sylia's reaction that had surprised her the most. The usually unemotional leader of the Knight Sabers actually seemed to feel some sympathy for him. Why? It was kind of obvious that Sylia intended to keep him close to the Knight Sabers. The young red-head gave a mental shrug. Yet one more Sylia Stingray mystery to be pondered.

Well, until he proved otherwise, she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. She rolled over to go to sleep. A grin spread across her features as a final thought crossed her sleepy mind. Besides, he was kind of cute.

Back in the infirmary Sylia pulled a scalpel from a tray of instruments. "You sure that's the place?" she asked. "I don't want to cut if you're not sure."

"Nope. I'm not sure." Chaz grinned. "On the other hand, that's where the computer predicted it would be the best place." He pushed up his sleeve again and placed his right arm across the small table. "I have to know," he said simply.

Sylia pushed down on the skin with the scalpel. After the first sixteenth of an inch the skin didn't want to cut anymore. Ignoring the slight trace of blood she bore down harder. With a metallic 'ting' the head of the scalpel broke off and flew across the room. "Well so much for that approach. Where did Nene draw her blood sample from anyway?" she asked puzzled.

"Right in that vein above where you were cutting. Probably put those above the armor to make it more realistic." Chaz pressed on the cut skin, watching in fascination as it quickly sealed closed. A slight itch and it was gone. "Now what do we do?"

Sylia reached for a datapad. "We can try those anomalies that Nene detected. The rest of the job is so good that they must of had a reason for leaving those areas the way they are." She punched up a copy of Nene's earlier scans. "There's three in each hand just behind the knuckles." She pointed at the diagram. "But those are much too small to be what we're looking for. Vibrowire ports at a guess." She indicated the palms of the diagram. "These two areas, on the other hand, are too large. I'd guess that those are weapons ports of some kind too. The only area left is this area on the left arm, in the same place that we just tried the right."

"So we just tried the wrong arm then?" Chaz asked rolling up the sleeve of his left arm and placing in on the table.

"Probably. It could be that there isn't one. Though that doesn't seem likely." Sylia picked up another scalpel. "We'll see in a minute," she said as she pressed down on the exposed skin. "Does that hurt?" she asked as she cut a line through the skin.

"Not really. More like a heavy tingling or itching sensation," Chaz said as he watched her fold back the skin.

Sylia shook her head absently as she put the scalpel back on the tray. "Hmm. . . I'd be careful about that. It would be pretty easy to seriously hurt yourself." Using her fingers she gently spread the incision. "There it is," Sylia said gratified. She carefully used a piece of gauze to wipe blood away from the exposed data jack.

Chaz looked. It was set flush with the flexible armor underneath. It was just a small white circle with black lettering and a seal across the opening in the center. Probably to keep fluids out, he noted idly.

Sylia put a couple of clamps on the skin to hold it away. "OK. Let me know if this feels unpleasant and we'll stop," she said as she reached for a data-link. With a little click the cable snapped into place.

"Nothing unpleasant so far." In fact Chaz couldn't feel anything at all. The computer started its interface program. "Still nothing. No sensation at all."

Sylia frowned slightly. "We're not getting anything from it either."

-Warning! Unauthorized attempt to access system.-

Chaz shook his head violently. What the hell was that?

Sylia looked at Chaz, concerned. "Are you all right?"

-Allow access? yes/NO?-

Huh? "Sylia. There's a voice in my head asking me if I want to grant access."

Sylia looked startled for a moment. "Just say 'yes' for now."

Chaz nodded. /yes./

-Acknowledged.-

Chaz shook his head again. "Boy. That's spooky," he said shakily.

Sylia watched as information scrolled up the screen. "There's why. I have to give GENOM some credit. Someone did a first class job on this system. If we tried to do this without your permission we wouldn't have gotten anywhere. But at the same time you don't have any direct control over a lot of systems."

"Like what?" Chaz crowded close to the terminal and watched as his body talked to the computer.

"A lot of systems are being controlled by a complex subsidiary computer. It's a really odd one though. It's not quite an AI but it is a learning computer. It's apparently a lot like a subconscious. Neural net security is really simple. If you don't want to be accessed it closes down the data jack," Sylia said, fascinated, as she continued reading the screen. Damn it to hell! She'd SEEN this before! She was sure of it. "In normal day to day activities you don't need a lot of what your body can do. They must have wanted to free the main system from having to deal with an overload of trivial information so the AI acts as a screen. It keeps track of the data and looks for patterns. If it thinks you ought to know about something it brings it to your attention."

"I don't know if I like that," Chaz complained. "It sounds a lot like a father knows best policy."

"Not really," Sylia explained. "It's the same sort of thing that your old body used to do. You really didn't listen to every sound your ears ever heard. You could if you wanted to. But if you were doing something else you would only hear things that caught your attention."

"So what kinds of things am I not 'listening' to," Chaz asked, trying unsuccessfully to decipher the cryptic images on the screens.

Sylia pulled up a cross sectional image of his eyes. "First, there are your visual abilities. Those includes telescopic amplification, thermograph, a broad-spectrum receiver, light amplification, simple magnetic field tracing and a complex package of image manipulation software that renders them more accurate than normally possible with such small systems."

"So when Mackie asked me if there was a homing device the AI took my thoughts as a question and started looking for one," Chaz said slapping his forehead. "When it picked up the signal it pointed it out."

"Probably." Sylia pointed to the head in the diagram. "Then this says you can also hear, taste and touch much better than normal. The sense of smell and taste can be broken down to the molecular level if you wanted. It uses a miniature laser spectrometer in conjunction with a database that gives scientific names and possible uses," she frowned as more data scrolled by. "You also have a radiation detector, imaging radar and a small sonar setup. Some of this is highly experimental stuff. Some of it is almost useless. Almost as if they put it in to prove they could. I wonder why Mason threw it away?"

Chaz looked a bit uneasy. "I beg your pardon. Experimental? Useless?" He poked nervously at his chest. "I may not like it, but this is my body now. I'd like to hope it was reliable."

"That's not quite what I meant," Sylia explained. "The technology is proven. But someone has figured out a way to make it much smaller and more efficient. I might even install some of this in the hardsuits. Take your skin for example. You wondered why it looked just like your old face," he nodded. "It can flex, change color and reshape itself to look like almost anyone. Provided they're male and about the same build. Given time and materials it can even change that. This is a VERY sophisticated system. Even your hair can change length and color. There's also provision for a chameleon system using ruthenium fibers beneath the skin. But it doesn't look active." She shrugged absently. "They probably couldn't get the software to work."

Chaz shrugged. He didn't foresee a need for it anyway. "So I'm a robotic Lon Chaney what else?"

Lon Chaney? Sylia made a mental note to check the reference later. "Quite a bit. You've got two heavy power cells and two power plants built in. The first plant is a bio-converter. That one could keep you going on a day-to-day basis provided you didn't push yourself. But it looks like it's mostly for show and to keep up a couple of biological systems supplied. They probably wanted you to be able to blend in. The other is a miniaturized fusion plant. I have no idea how they made it so small. But it's damped at the moment," Sylia seemed puzzled for a moment. "I wonder why?" She filed it away to be solved later. "Then you have the parts that are actually SUPPOSED to be in 33-S. A pheromone emitter, hypno-eye, silver tongue, and a neural stimulator."

"I know what the first couple are. What are those last two for?" Chaz poked at the diagram.

"There's a modification to your vocal apparatus. It puts out a low frequency sound that makes people like your voice no matter what it sounds like or what it's saying. It makes them feel like they're having a gut reaction to your words," she brushed her hair toward her face trying to hide the beginnings of a blush. "The second. . .overall, it makes your touch feel good. It's situated right next to your sex implant. You figure it out," Sylia said irritated.

"O...kay" Chaz replied trying to ignore the faint blush of red showing on her face. "What about my strength? You said I'm stronger than those razor-dolls. But why? My arms and theirs are about the same size."

Sylia put up a chart on the screen. "Most myomers require a certain amount of space to provide a certain amount of strength. In addition they provide only so much strength for so much power. Up to a point you can force yours to perform at a much higher level," Sylia pointed to a graph. "Right up to here it's a normal myomer power consumption chart. Like that boomer's last night. After this point, where a normal boomers myomers are saturated with power, yours start consuming a LOT of power for an increase in strength beyond the limit. I would recommend you NOT try to wrestle a C-55 boomer," she warned. "You MIGHT win but you would definitely run your power supply way down and damage yourself in the process."

"Any chance of you being able to put these in the hardsuits?" Chaz inquired.

"Yes," Sylia moved a copy of the files to her mainframe. "I might even be able to solve the power problem. The myomer damage, however, is part of the design unfortunately. You have to take the bad with the good."

"Well if you do manage to fix that design flaw I might make a small request," Chaz joked.

"Mm...I'll keep it in mind," Sylia looked back at the screen and her eyes widened. "Well you won't have to worry about repairs too often anyway. There's what looks like an advanced, directed nanite repair center spread throughout your body. Barring actual dismemberment or a direct hit on your brain or AI you should be able to heal most things given time. It's another power hog system. I'm beginning to see why they thought the fusion plant was necessary. If they started making combat boomers like this. . ." her voice stopped.

"What?" Chaz glanced at the screen. There, two clearly labeled subsystems were highlighted. "X-ray lasers. Jesus! Look at the power consumption! Where are the weapons ports for those?" he asked feeling carefully around his chest.

Sylia typed a couple of queries into the system. "Remember those areas in the palms we saw," She asked. Chaz nodded. "Well those lasers are linked by a fiber-optic cable to those ports and to a couple of finer fiber optics in your index fingers. I hadn't even heard about periscopes for X-ray lasers yet." She paused thoughtfully. "Someone's going to be very upset when they find out your body is missing. I don't think it was ever intended to be discarded."

Madigan stormed out of the Chairman's office. She was more than upset. She was outraged. And she knew who to blame. That she couldn't prove it only made her angrier. That bastard Mason! Somehow she knew he was behind this.

The chairman had not been very understanding when she showed him the damage report. Billions flushed down the drain. Most of it was unrecoverable because of the fire. The experimental model should have survived and would have made up for the loss itself in time. But it couldn't be found. Mason had probably spirited it off to claim as his own later. Worst of all, the research had all disappeared and the two scientists responsible for most of the new developments were dead. The Chairman hadn't demoted her but he HAD made it absolutely clear that the next screw up wouldn't mean a demotion. It would be MUCH more serious than that. At least, she consoled herself, Mason hadn't managed to spirit away the research on the next generation boomer brain. Even without the body, that was an achievement in itself. The new brain series used Dr. Stingray's original research to produce a brain superior to the mass produced GENOM brain and better than the original 33-S series. She smiled grimly to herself. Now all she had to do was keep it out of Mason's hands.

Quincy sat alone in his office watching the rainfall. His stony features held no expression as his eyes tracked the path of raindrops down the glass. Those who didn't know him would have thought he was at peace. They would have been VERY wrong. The less he showed on the outside the more activity was going on inside.

Mason had moved against Madigan. That much was obvious. Oh, Nothing that could be traced back to him of course. But it was obvious just the same. Expected even. Quincy frowned. But to destroy such a promising project and the research needed to re-create it was going too far. Mason had to learn that GENOM, the company, came first. Everything else had to work within that framework. How to point this out to him? That was the question foremost in Quincy's mind. He'd punished Madigan as a matter of course. She'd been in charge of the project. It was her responsibility. But how to punish Mason? If he did it overtly he'd appear to be arbitrary. No one could accuse Mason after all. No one alive. Mm...What if Mason was led to believe one of those three scientists had survived? That should worry him enough to where he would consider his actions more carefully next time. Yes, That would do nicely. In the loneliness of his office, below the sound of rain beating on the glass, Quincy laughed.

Linna finished her post workout stretch while the members of her class slowly headed for the door. She'd felt badly about leaving Irene at Sylia's by herself, but it was important to keep up appearances. When the last of her students had left, she wandered back to the locker-room to shower and change.

Clothes were thrown in a bag to be washed later. Walking onto the slowly cooling tile, she turned the shower on. Scrubbing quickly she rinsed herself off and moved to the hot tub. Ahh... Her head slowly fell back against the side of the tub as the tension oozed from her body. The ONLY way to end a workout. She usually wasn't a private person, but when she needed privacy she headed for a small body of hot water. From the depths of her memory came a quote from her mother. "When the going gets tough, the tough take a bath." It had seemed, at times, in her childhood that her mother had solved most of her problems that way. Somewhere in the back of her mind she probably still associated the warmth of the tub with her mothers arms.

The lithe dancer rolled over so that her head rested on her arms and her breasts pressed against the side of the tub. What were they going to do with Chaz? Not quite right. What was Sylia going to do with Chaz? In the past couple days he'd managed to find them and convince Sylia to take him in, at least temporarily. If he left he'd be a risk. If he stayed it would be just as bad. For that matter what were they going to do with Irene? GENOM had tried once and would probably try again. They couldn't keep rescuing her at the last minute. Sooner or later there would be a slip up.

Linna sucked in a breath of steam-laden air and let it out slowly. At least she didn't have to make those kinds of decisions. Sometimes it was nice not being in charge. Linna languidly closed her eyes and let the hot water wipe the last trace of coherent thought from her mind.

Mason stormed down the hall from the elevator to the Chairman's office. He tried to control his expression. But it was useless. Anger practically screamed from every pore. Minor functionaries with even a hint of a sense of mortality scurried out of his way.

Damn it! he fumed. Dr. Nakamada was alive! The old man himself had told him. In a coma, but alive! If Nakamada ever came out of it and told what he knew. Mason shivered. His life wouldn't be worth anything. He'd have to move the whole project out of the tower. There was too much chance of it attracting attention now. He should have been more careful.

He had thought it was clever to place Nakamada's body with those scientists of Madigan's. As planned, a rogue experimental C-55 had been blamed for the carnage. He should have made sure the doctor was dead himself! He should have held onto Madigan's prototype too, he admitted to himself. The Chairman was right; the research material lost could have been very useful. Even the prototype itself could have been useful once they replaced its brain. Too late now, he cursed. The prototype was rendered materials by this time. Even its experimental repair function couldn't bring it back from that. The only thing he had to show for it was that body on the slab. The Chairman had insisted on seeing the gaijins body. He hoped no one thought to examine it. The missing nervous system would be hard to explain. He should be able to dispose of it within a couple of days. Mason smiled. It was almost worth it all to see Madigan's face. When she'd been called in to the old man's office and seen him standing beside the desk, she'd known. She'd known it was him who done it. And the worst part was she couldn't prove it!

The thought cooled his anger slightly. That should keep her out of sight for a few weeks. Now all he had to do was finish off the Knight Sabers off and find a way to get rid of the old man. The first was business the second, well, that was business too but it had more pleasure mixed in. The Bu-99CX1 project had been an early success. The research from that was already pouring into the Lazarus project. He'd been near the top too long to be denied now. And he was determined. When his time came to die, Mason's killer wouldn't take his seat the way he would take Quincy's. Mason smiled. Death would be just the beginning. With GENOM under his control nothing would be beyond his reach. Nothing!

Sylia sat in the meeting room lost in thought. Nene and Mackie had managed to lock down the most likely location for the boomer lab where the Black-Box had been taken. But without Priss any fight they got into would be at a disadvantage. She hadn't even begun to think about a hard suit for Chaz yet. Too many problems she decided. Narrow the focus. Should she risk his life and everyone else's by taking him along? Without a hard suit he'd be at a disadvantage if any C-class or better boomers showed up. Could she risk not taking him? If GENOM was involved they would almost certainly be prepared for them. If she gave them too long they would find a way to use the Black-Box. That, she definitely wanted to avoid. One close range strike from a laser satellite was too many. The simplest answer was to ask him. Maybe he wouldn't want to come.

Chaz nodded. "Sure. I'll come. Although I don't know how much help I'll be," Chaz said as he lounged in a chair. Priss sat in on the meeting against Sylia's advisement. Linna and Nene sat on the couch listening intently. "What am I going to do for a hardsuit? My sub-dermal armor isn't that great, you know."

Nene's eyes widened as she took in the implications of that statement. Cyborg modifications like that were more than an asset. If Sylia thought he could be trusted. "So it's true?" she asked excitedly. "You are going to join us?"

Linna looked a little more wary. "What sparked the sudden change? The last I'd heard you were dead set against joining. Something about gruesome deaths." Linna wasn't so sure about this. Cyborgs in general and boomeroids in particular had a nasty tendency to go berserk. Still, if Sylia thought he was okay.

Chaz put on a sour face. "Let's just say I've lost my fear of gruesome deaths."

Priss interrupted. "You two seem to be taking this pretty calmly. I mean considering..."

Sylia stepped in. "That's not important right now Priss. Chaz, you haven't had any training at all whatever your physical abilities are. If you come, you're to stay with one of us at all times. Got it?"

Chaz nodded easily, he'd been under orders of one kind or another most of his adult life. "I gotcha boss."

Sylia winced and looked at the other Knight Sabers.

Linna looked unsure, but nodded.

Nene was practically bouncing. A new Knight Saber! And a guy too! "I'll keep an eye on him," she said eagerly.

Unhappy, but unable to refute the logic of the choice Sylia nodded. "Yes. Together you two should be safe enough. We'll leave as soon as it's dark. I'll see if I can put together a helmet for Chaz so he can stay in contact with the rest of us."

"What about my built-in radio?" Chaz asked.

"Not powerful enough and the encryption systems uses standard GENOM codes," Sylia explained.

Chaz nodded. "Yeah. I can see where that would be bad," he was fuzzy about many things but the whole good-bad thing wasn't one of them.

Chaz reluctantly pulled on the AD police armor Sylia had handed him. It was kind of awkward and made him feel like his ears were plugged. Must be one of the sensors being blocked. He hadn't gotten to the point where he could get a good response from his AI yet. Oh well. That could be put up with. Having a boomer rip, what passed for his guts, out couldn't. He reached over and grabbed the gun he'd selected. This was more to his liking. It was essentially an updated version of the ADP "Stomach" railgun. A five shot steel jacketed DPU clip slapped into the base whereas the ADP version had a three shot manual load. A normal guy would need at least two hands to hold it. With his increased strength he could do it with one. He just wished that Sylia had two of the boomer killers.

Mackie sat in the truck waiting for the other Knight Sabers to finish dressing. Sylia had noticed the camera of course. He wasn't too surprised. A little disappointed maybe. Oh well. He had tapes of her and the others anyway. He shifted uncomfortably. He tended to agree with Priss on this. Sis seemed to trust Chaz. But boomeroids, as a rule, were unreliable. In seven out of ten, cyber-psychosis set in within four years. No matter what had been done to their brains. He'd brought the cannon just in case. He'd picked it out of the armory before Chaz had gone in. If anything went wrong. Well, the cannon was supposed to be enough to take out a C-55 with one shot. It should take Chaz out nicely if he became a problem. Feeling better about it, Mackie turned his attention back to the screen where Nene was just getting into her softsuit.

"There are four GENOM laboratories in the Kawasaki factory zone. Until recently two of them have been closed down," Mackie said over the intercom as he drove towards their destination. "Activity resumed at one since the explosion. According to the AD police database the truck that left by gate R headed straight for Kawasaki."

Nene, dressed in her hardsuit, sat in front of a computer console. "The closed lab seems suspicious. It was a terrible place with a history of 'research accidents.' It was finally shut down six years ago when 12 people were killed."

Sylia stood behind Nene. "Boomers I'll bet."

Mackie dropped off the expressway and turned into the large industrial park. "They were developing fusion power sources which would have utilized a special resin to induce the reaction. It was probably boomer-related work though."

In the back of the truck the rest of the team finished suiting up. Chaz put on Sylia's new helmet and adjusted his flak suit. It wouldn't really help much against incoming fire but it should give him a fighting chance. He'd also grabbed his boomer killer. In theory his lasers were more powerful. But better safe than sorry. A brief wave of disorientation swept through him. Irritatedly Chaz took off the helmet. "This damn thing's messing up my enhancements. Every couple of seconds I get a feeling like an itch across my eyes and back in my ears. I can't tell if the AI is adjusting or not."

Sylia reached over and plucked it out of his hands. "I'll remove the shell and then you can just use the headset built in. The helmet wasn't armored very heavily anyway," she apologized, as she handed it back. "I didn't have the time."

Mackie yelled from the front. "Final warning!" They'd forgone the gate to gain a few more seconds of time. A grin spread across the teens face. God he loved this part of the job.

Sylia, Linna and Nene slapped on their helmets. Linna boarded her motoroid as it sat on its drop arm.

"You might also want to do something about your face," Sylia warned Chaz.

Oh yeah. He'd forgotten about that. Mason knew what he looked like. Smiling, he pictured Alec Guinness's face in front of him and cued up the disguise program. His face itched for a few seconds than stopped. That should do it. "Well?"

"Sugoi!" Nene exclaimed. "You can do that with any face?" A sudden jolt kept him from answering.

Mackie rammed the thick concrete fence and pulled the armored vehicle into a tight spin as Linna's bike dropped from the side.

"Knight Sabers, Go!" Cried Sylia as she took off.

Sitting in his chair in the lab Mason raised a toast to the Knight Sabers' demise and the birth of the Super-Boomer. Around him a group of razor dolls scrambled out to meet them. He didn't really expect them to stop the Knight Sabers, but it should give the Super-Boomer enough time to finish charging. Stopping in mid-self-congratulation Mason looked at the screen more closely. Who the hell was that? A Knight Saber was missing and had been replaced by what looked like an old man with AD Police body armor and a heavy gun. One of the regular members must be hurt. Or is this what the Blue one looks like without his hard suit? Amazing! Using armor to disguise not only the face but also the gender of their bodies. He never would have thought of it. The hard suit must have been too damaged to repair in time. Rather than go in shorthanded they'd pulled this. Well he shouldn't be much of a problem. Perhaps the razor dolls might be of some use after all.

Nene had it! That's where the damn thing was! "Now I've gotcha!" she said as she transmitted the location to the others.

Running through the industrial plant to try keep up with Nene, Chaz almost missed the razor doll that exploded out of the shadows ahead of Nene. "Nene! Look out!" he warned.

Nene, intent on the Black-Box signal, had missed the boomer. With an almost casual motion the death machine clothes-lined Nene knocking her across the floor. Dismissing the oncoming human as the lesser threat, the boomer popped its claws to face Nene. Nene, frightened, raised her arm and fired round after round of machine-gun ammo. The boomer, at first concerned about the hail of fire, dropped its arm when it became apparent that the shots were doing no damage. Nene, seeing the same, scrambled in an attempt to get away. The boomer raised its arm and rushed to attack.

"Get away from her you bitch!" Chaz, holding the heavy weapon like a handgun, fired a round that took off the boomer's upswept arm. God! He'd always wanted to say that! Firing round after round he managed to nick the quickly evading boomer a couple more times before the clip ran out. With an audible 'click' the railgun cycled itself for reloading. Oh Shit!

The damaged boomer realized its targets mistake and lunged at the now unarmed human. The vicious machine swiped at Chaz as he dropped his gun slicing deep into his body armor. One more slash and the human would be a non-problem. It pulled its hand back to drive its claws into the opening. Only to feel its remaining arm grabbed in a vise-like grip. The boomer reacted by trying to wrench its arm free and was shocked to realize it couldn't.

Ignoring the ineffectual kicking from the helpless boomer Chaz stood up and dropped the "Stomach". Holding the frantically struggling boomer completely off the ground with one hand, Chaz slowly twisted the boomers arm behind it. Using his free hand, he gripped the boomer's head by the chin. With a squeal of busting metal he tore it off and dropped it next to the still twitching body.

"So much for that," Chaz said, as he shrugged off his ruined body-armor and picked up his gun. "It was slowing me down anyway. Nene you all right?"

Nene, shaken, got to her feet. "I'm fine. I thought I was supposed to be watching you."

He shrugged expressively. "Whatever works," Chaz said, reloading his gun. "Come on we'll be late for the party."

"That was such a great shot!" Nene said as they ran. "You took its arm clean off!"

The Guinness clone snorted. "It was the worst shot ever seen," Chaz explained, "I was aiming for its head! Damn recoil threw my aim all to hell."

Linna had her own problems. The first razor doll had managed to knock her off her motoroid before she could react. Now two of the damned things had her cornered in the pipe-filled passage. She'd managed to get in a few cuts with her mono-molecular ribbons, but the two of them still seemed to be in pretty good shape. The dark hared boomers arm made a quick arc, spraying Linna with a series of fingernail spikes. But Linna wasn't there anymore. Springing over the incoming fire, Linna flipped into a handspring, using the knuckle bomber on the blonde boomer's head as she passed. Using the additional lift the shaped explosive charge gave her, Linna turned as she soared and watched the now headless body fall. The second boomer, seeing the fate of its companion, extended its claws and charged. Linna ducked inside the swing and snapped her ribbons through the boomer's exposed leg, crippling it. Going into a ballet spin Linna whipped her ribbons into a swirl. Seconds later, the last of the boomer's recognizable parts clattered into a pile at her feet. Giving a mental bow quickly to an unseen audience, Linna raced on.

Sylia ducked under the swing of the razor dolls claws. The first, already dead, lay at her feet a metal pole protruding from its abdomen. That boomer had sadly underestimated the enhanced strength of the hardsuit and had paid the price. The second was actually proving to be a problem. Deciding that close range combat wasn't necessary, Sylia allowed the boomer's follow up kick to impact on her chest armor. Denting a few pipes in her landing, Sylia gained a target lock with her auto-cannon and blew a hole clear through the onrushing boomer's head. Mm... A little slow today. Making a mental note to do an extra workout this week Sylia rushed into the building.

Mason watched the screens before him without expression. The Knight Sabers had performed better than he had expected. The boomeroid had been a big surprise. No wonder he'd been willing to go into combat without a hard-suit. With his backup to help protect him and the railgun he could fight at almost full efficiency. This explained why GENOM had always had trouble duplicating the hard suits. The assumption had been that the people inside were completely human; Obvious in retrospect. Well, when the Super-Boomer finished them off there would be plenty of time to examine the remains. The warm up was over. It was time for the end game.

Linna rounded the corner into a darkened, wide-open area and nearly attacked Sylia when she came out of another side tunnel. "Where's Nene and Chaz?" she asked concerned.

"Delayed," Sylia started to scan the area. Her sensors weren't anywhere near as powerful as Nene's, but they should be able to pinpoint the Black-Box emissions.

A low growl, emanating from an alcove, caught their attention. Back in the shadows a spark of electricity flared and a pair of neon blue eyes lit up. With a roar of fuel being eaten hungrily by ramjets a mammoth, red boomer came charging out of the darkness to slam into Sylia, knocking her aside.

"Sis the laser satellites have aligned themselves to the same frequency as with Cynthia," Mackie said worriedly over Sylia's headset, as she righted her self and landed.

Linna, rushing forward, flipped to the top of the giant. Readying the knuckle bomber, the nimble dancer quickly brought it down on the boomer's head. As the explosion cleared she felt the grip of the boomer's hands on her armored leg. With a convulsive movement it tossed her away as if she was a rag doll. Looking up she saw the boomer, largely untouched by the blast, opening its mouth to fire its multiple beam particle cannon. Sylia recovered her feet and tackled Linna in time to avoid the blast. From an entryway behind the boomer she saw Nene and Chaz run into the chamber.

Nene immediately began scanning the giant boomer. "Sylia that thing just sent a signal to the satellite." As if in confirmation of her pronouncement a pillar of light that stretched from the sky exploded into the complex vaporizing steel and concrete. The aftermath swept the wind into a hurricane and hurtled dust everywhere.

"Shit!" Chaz was shocked. It had been one thing to see those beams from a distance but up close they were truly awesome. Leveling the gun with both hands at the boomer Chaz emptied the clip into its back. "Fuck me!" he said, dropping the gun and running forward. "Not a scratch!" he watched as the heavy projectiles were forced out of the boomer's thick fusion armor, to drop on to the pavement.

The boomer turned, its sensors registering the heavy impacts from behind. Sylia, seeing their chance, nodded to Linna. Linna, still a little shaky, sprang into the air, in a repeat of her earlier attack and scored a direct hit on the boomer's head. Following right after Linna's attack, Sylia landed on the boomer's head as it tried in vain to grab the much more alert Linna. She quickly placed her hands atop its head and emptied her autocannons through the weakened armor blowing off the enraged monstrosities head.

Nene checked her systems. Mouthing a word that Mackie would be surprised she knew, she opened her com-link. "Sylia! The satellite is still aligned but the control signals are erratic. It's out of control!" Nene yelled as she tried to block the strong signal.

Chaz raised his hands towards the boomer and commanded the lasers to fire. Deep inside his chest slight warmth spread. A millisecond later near-invisible beams of power lanced out from his palms at the mortally wounded boomer. Melted and vaporized armor exploded away from the impact points as the beams cut through the arm joints and deep into the boomers midsection.. The Black-Box, nicked by a beam, missed a coordinate set and substituted its current location for the missing data.

Nene's eyes widened as her hard-suit deciphered the last bit of transmitted information. "The satellite is locking in on to this whole complex. We have to get out of here!" Nene yelled as the others watched the boomer violently explode.

Activating their thrusters the three armored Knight Sabers took to the air to get away from the impending laser strike.

Sprinting to try to keep up with the flying Knight Sabers, Chaz felt the first impact from the laser satellites beam behind him and jumped forward curling into a ball. The blast picked him up and hurled after the others. A sharp jolt lanced briefly through him as a piece of shrapnel imbedded itself in his back. He landed heavily on the roadway and resumed his run to the truck.

Mason was disgusted. After the Super-Boomer's head had been wrecked he had seen the writing on the wall and scrambled into his limo. He had been so close! The armor on the Super-Boomer had performed beautifully. If it hadn't taken so long to sight in the laser satellite the Super-Boomer would have won! He looked over his shoulder at the disintegrating aqua city. The satellite would continue to pound the complex until the Black-Box ceased its transmission. He hadn't even managed to kill off the unarmored one. That galled. The old man was going to be pissed. With good reason, he had to admit. Mason waved his driver towards the tower and started rehearsing his explanation.

Sylia, Linna, Nene and Chaz sat on Mackie's truck and watched as the laser struck the facility again. "Sis the Black-Box transmission has stopped. The satellites are standing down."

"Ah! There goes our twenty million!" Nene wailed.

Sylia jumped down. "It's just as well. I don't think I could have given it back to USSD."

Linna took up the cry. "What do you mean 'It's just as well.' Were talking twenty million here. Twenty million!"

Chaz looked at the descending laser strike. "It's time to go home," he said wearily as he rubbed at the spot where the shrapnel had been removed. The damn spot itched horribly. Better than pain, he supposed. He could ignore the itch; Kind of. Grumbling, he slid the van's door closed.

The Knight Sabers van rolled towards Mega-Tokyo proper and home.


	2. Chapter 2

Chaz sat in the quiet of the computer room slowly going over the files Sylia had managed to coerce his subsidiary AI into giving up. He was dressed, as usual, in blue kevlar jeans and a black, dragon-print T-shirt. There had been noises from Linna and Nene about forcing him to go shopping for 'More suitable' clothes. So far he'd managed to charm his way out of it when the subject came up. Mostly that meant he'd stayed out of sight when they looked like they wanted to go.

Rubbing his eyes, he stared at the screen. From what little he understood of the files, he could see why Sylia had been so convinced that someone was going to be upset when they found out their 'project' had walked off. It was bad enough that he had several, never before seen, prototype systems lodged under his skin. He also had much of the research that had produced them lodged in his AI. He had to have it of course. Without the design specs his directed nanite repair system couldn't function. All in all it would probably be a good idea if he changed his 'default' face permanently. There were people that knew that face and he couldn't afford to be seen with it. Mason, for one, would recognize it instantly.

He leaned back in the chair and started to rub his temples. Halfway up, the hand stopped. Why was he doing that? His head and eyes didn't hurt or even ache. After puzzling it over he decided it had to be habit. Amazing the kinds of activities your body falls into when you aren't watching it. Grinning at the continuing evidence of humanity, he finished reaching up to rub his head.

"There you are!" yelled a strident female voice behind him. Chaz flinched. He'd been ducking that voice since the Knight Sabers had destroyed USSD's "Black Box" two days ago. He had known it was just a matter of time of course. He'd fought against it just the same. But his past was about to catch up with him. Deciding to brazen it out Chaz turned around and smiled. "Priss! Hi! I didn't realize you were looking for me," he lied brazenly. The second the words had passed his lips he regretted them. Despite evidence to the contrary, Priss wasn't stupid. Her face said, in no uncertain terms, that she didn't believe him for a second.

Priss, dressed in her usual riding outfit, just stared at him. Who did he think he was fooling? He couldn't have been more obvious about avoiding her if he'd tried. Exerting a little bit of discipline, she put her personal ire on a back burner to simmer. "You were supposed to talk to Irene this afternoon remember?" If she hadn't actually needed to find him, she doubted Sylia would have told her where he was.

Chaz groaned. Yup. She was right. He was late. "Sorry, must have lost track of the time."

The young singer gave him a disbelieving frown. "I thought you couldn't lose track of time?" Her voice implied this was a flimsy excuse at best.

A vague shrug swept over Chaz's shoulders. "I can lose track of time just like everyone else. I just always know what time it is. It's like having a watch and never looking at it." He paused thoughtfully. "If I had thought about it I would have set up a reminder." Reaching over he started the sequence that would log him out of the mainframe and put its AI back on standby. If he had wanted, he could have used the interface set. However, there was something a little too personal about that. It gave him the heebie-jeebies and he'd given up after the first try. "OK," he said as the computer gave him a final log-off warning. "Let's go."

Matter Over Mind Productions

Presents

MegaTokyo 2032

The Knight Sabers

"A Certain Point of View"

Chapter Two: Consequences

Copyright (c) 2005 Charles S. Stitman

Closing the door behind her, Priss herded Chaz towards the lounge where the rest of the Knight Sabers waited. "I thought you wanted me to teach you how to ride a bike?" She opened cautiously.

He debated about using his best 'who me?' face. Nah. Why waste it? Besides it probably wouldn't work. Chaz opened the door for her as they walked through the testing area. His best bet was probably to go on the offensive. He looked down at her leg meaningfully. "And you were supposed to take another three days to make sure that the bone had sealed together before you walked without your support."

Priss grimaced. She never had been a good patient. If she'd lived back when Chaz was born she would have had to put up with a cast for weeks. Probably would have driven her nuts. "I'm fine as long as I don't put too much stress on it," she said testily. Recovering her train of thought, she returned to her original topic. "Why HAVE you been avoiding me anyway?" She thought she knew the answer, but she wanted him to say it.

Chaz's shoulders came up in another of his expressive shrugs. "Mostly to give you a chance to come to grips with what I am. There's no reason for me to force my presence on you." To tell the truth, he'd been worried about how she was handling it. He knew she'd been looking for him and had assumed it was for some kind of confrontation.

Priss nodded to herself; about what she had thought. "You know.." she started, "you really are an idiot. If you really want me to see beyond that, the worst thing you could do is hide out from me."

Chaz stopped, stunned for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Priss said, continuing to hobble toward the lounge, "that if you want me to see the person inside and not the body, you should make an effort to show me who you are. Otherwise all I'm left with is a superficial image of you." She turned to face the still shocked Chaz. "I liked you well enough when I thought you were human. I could probably learn to like you as a boomer if you gave me the chance."

Chaz shook his head dismally. "That was just the 33-S components," he said morosely.

Priss stepped closer. "Maybe at first. But you are a genuinely nice guy when you try to be." She thought about it for a moment. "You aren't using those now are you?" she asked almost nervously.

Chaz's gloom evaporated like mist in sunlight. He grinned and stepped by her. "That's one of the things that's completely controlled by the AI, he teased. If it's on I wouldn't know it." Let her chew on that for a while. Sylia had told him that the more he interacted with someone the less part his 'enhancements' would play. After a while people just got used to them. "Besides," he said as his grin widened, "tell me YOU'VE never used your looks to influence people."

Priss tried her best not to look abashed and failed miserably. She settled for looking defiant, a facial expression she had mastered early in her life. She had to admit, if only to her, that she'd beat people over the head with her looks before. Chaz's 'enhancements' were just another way of doing the same thing. They couldn't actually force anyone to do anything. Much like perfume or makeup, they just did their best to convince. And they really couldn't cover a bad personality for long. Still, she wished that he could shut them off. Knowing they were there made her feel nervous. She picked up the pace to catch up with him, and grimaced as her much abused leg gave her a twinge of pain. Better wipe the pain off your face Priss, she chided herself, or Sylia will put you back in the brace. Putting a mask of studied disinterest over her pain she continued limping to the meeting.

Irene, dressed in one of Sylia's understated white linen outfits, sat next to Linna, waiting in silence for the man who had rescued her to come to the meeting. Despite their kindness she really didn't feel comfortable with him or these other strangers yet. But Linna had assured her that they were the best friends she could have. Linna! Irene still wasn't sure she could believe it. Linna was a Knight Saber! If there was a more dangerous profession Irene would have been hard pressed to think of it. They were considered 'Targets Of Opportunity' by almost every multinational that had ties to GENOM. Which meant that almost every multinational in the world wanted them dead. She wondered what they would do with her. If they had wanted her dead they wouldn't have saved her from the boomer in the first place.

Nervously she looked at each of the silent women in turn. She hoped her family wasn't too worried. She'd been supposed to call them the night she was attacked. Her grandfather would be upset when he found out her fiancee had been killed, and he would be livid when he found out that she'd been attacked. GENOM had been a thorn in his side for years, and this might be the last straw. Knowing the relative strengths of the rival multi-nationals, she wasn't sure that was such a good thing.

Chaz walked hurriedly into the room and sat down on the couch next to Nene. Priss walked in behind him and dropped on the other side of him.

"About time." Sylia said, exasperated. She turned to Priss. "Where did you find him?" she sighed.

Priss looked up at Sylia. "He was right where you said he'd be." Is there anything Sylia didn't know about them? Probably not.

Sylia nodded. Looking around, she gathered everyone's attention with her eyes. "The question before us is what to do about Irene. She obviously can't return to her home. That will be the first place GENOM will look. They missed their first attack on her and lost their boomer doing it. They won't make a mistake like that again."

"What about a safe-house?" Nene said. "It's what the police would do if they wanted to hide someone."

Sylia nodded. She'd thought about it and agreed. It was most likely what they would have to do with her. Not a great life, but a life nonetheless.

Linna, dressed in casual clothes and her usual headband, decided that the question needed to be asked. "What about having her stay here?"

"Linna, you know that's not possible," Sylia said gently. Having one additional member of the Knight Sabers would be difficult enough. Besides Irene really didn't have any skills that would allow her to fit in as part of the team. Chaz, at least, had the advantage of his boomer body to keep him out of danger until his skills improved.

"What about blowing away the guy that sent them after her?" Priss put in, leaning back into the sofa. It seemed the most direct way to deal with the problem. She liked direct solutions.

Sylia allowed a slight frown to spread. "Quite apart from the fact that the Knight Sabers don't do casual assassination, who, precisely, do you recommend we kill? Even if we knew who he was and 'blew him away', as you put it, GENOM would still keep trying to kill her." Irene gasped as Sylia said it. "I think Nene has the best answer. I have a couple places in and out of Japan where she should be safe."

"I don't think so Sylia," Chaz interrupted quietly. "I think Irene knows someplace she'll be much safer." He paused and looked Irene in the eye. "If she's willing to ask for help."

Irene's eyes widened as she choked back on her emotions. He couldn't be implying what she thought. Grandfather had said her records were flawless. He couldn't know! "I don't..."

"Chaz, you better explain what you mean by that." Sylia wasn't used to having her decisions challenged. If he wanted to put Irene's life back in danger he had better have a damn good explanation ready.

"Give me a minute Sylia," Chaz replied calmly. "It's not my secret to tell." He looked Irene in the eyes again. "If she chooses not to go back, I won't try to change her mind."

Tears began to form in Irene's eyes. He knew. Somehow, he knew. He wouldn't force her to go back. He suggested it. But he wouldn't force her. When her fiancee had been killed she'd considered and rejected the idea. Going back would mean returning to the world she'd left behind. Considering the circumstances it was likely to be a one-way trip.

Slowly she nodded. If nothing else the Hou Bang had the power to help her get revenge for her fiancee. She couldn't return to a normal life now anyway. "I'll call him," she said in a quiet voice.

Sylia looked at Chaz puzzled. "Who?" The question also implied 'How?' and 'Why?' None of Irene's records indicated ties to anyone with enough power to deal with this.

Chaz waited until Irene gave a small nod of acquiescence. "Her grandfather is the leader of the Chang Conglomerate, also known as the 'Hou Bang'. They should be more than able to protect her from GENOM."

"The crime cartel?" Priss asked incredulously. She watched Irene's small nod. The volatile singer threw up her hands in exasperation. "Oh Great! They'd sell us out to GENOM in a hot second!" she said vehemently.

Irene's head snapped up like she'd been slapped. "NEVER! Gulf & Bradley used a GENOM supplied assassin to kill my mother and my father, my grandfather's only child. Grandfather would sooner kill himself than cooperate with GENOM in any way." She started to cry. "I left the family with grandfather's consent because I didn't want to become caught up in the family politics." With tears streaming down her cheeks she looked into Priss's face. "My sister Reika and I are next in line to inherit the Hou Bang. GENOM killed my fiancee and tried to kill me! Do you really think I'd allow them to..." She broke down and started sobbing.

Linna shot Priss a dirty look and reached over to comfort Irene. Sylia stood up and motioned Chaz to join her by the window. Sighing resignedly, Chaz stood and walked over to the window.

When she judged they were out of earshot, Sylia turned to face Chaz. "Well?" she asked in a voice that implied, 'This had BETTER be good.'

Chaz looked briefly back at Linna comforting a sobbing Irene. "In the original sequence of events, Irene's death was the final blow for her sister Reika. A few months from now she would have dropped out of her singing career and gone back to the Hou Bang. At some point in the future she would have come back to take revenge. Unfortunately in that time-line the Knight Sabers were hired to protect one of the people that Reika was after. During the infighting she finds out about the Knight Sabers. Linna talks her out of a life based on revenge and Reika returns to her 'normal' life. She still retained her control of the Hou Bang. In that universe, Reika became, if not exactly an ally, than at least a friend." He paused and looked past the leader of the Knight Sabers to where a still sobbing Irene was slowly regaining control of herself. "There's no reason to suspect Irene would be any different. The Hou Bang is very honorable for a cartel and her grandfather knows a debt of honor when he sees one."

A frown creased the face of the leader of the Knight Sabers. "So what you're recommending is that we return Irene to her grandfather?" Sylia summed up. "What about her life on the outside?" She already knew the answer; she just wanted to see if he'd thought it out that far.

Chaz felt the gentle prod of a test and thought for a moment before answering. "Sylia, her old life is gone and any knowledge of the future I had is gone with it." He lowered his voice. "You know it and I know it. But if she truly wants to start over, it's going to take more resources than I think even you have to do it. Either way, it's probably best if she goes back to her family."

"Probably," Sylia sighed. She wasn't sure that it wouldn't have been easier to let Irene die. She stopped and mentally slapped herself for the thought. That's how Quincy thinks, she chided herself. "All right. After she makes arrangements to go home, you'll go with her as protection until she gets back. You have the best chance of evading any security and fixing any 'problems' that show up."

Chaz nodded. He hadn't thought about it, but she was right. If GENOM was going to try for the young Chang they would have to do so before she came under the protection of her family. As for getting her home secretly . . . In any large organization like the Hou Bang there were bound to be at least some small security leaks. Even if everyone was loyal that couldn't be avoided. "Okay. How am I going to get her home?"

Sylias mind quickly evaluated and discarded several solutions. "You'll have to take her in the KnightWing, a commercial flight is too big a target."

Chaz's jaw dropped. "Uh... Sylia. I can't fly that you know." A sudden thought struck him. "What about Mackie? He could fly it."

Sylia was a little uncertain about her brother going. "I don't think it's a bad idea but.."

Chaz smiled his best 'trust me' grin. "Relax, I just want him so that I can deal with larger menaces. It'll be good experience for him," Chaz interjected. "Besides we aren't really expecting trouble are we?"

Madigan rode in the elevator leading up to the Chairman's office. Her calm exterior belied the excitement inside. This was her chance! It was the first time since her debacle that she had been summoned to His office. For Madigan there was only one Him, Quincy, the Chairman. She was under no illusions. Quincy was no god, not even a messiah. To her, Quincy represented something even greater, the perfect businessman. He never seemed to let emotions intrude into his thinking. His plans seemed to take into account almost every contingency and, within certain guidelines, he seemed to be completely ruthless. All these things, Madigan aspired to. If she had to, she would kill Mason with her bare hands to get back into His good graces. She smiled. This promised to be even better. According to her sources Mason had botched his last couple of assignments. If true, his position was in definite jeopardy. That would leave Madigan free to step in; if she could. All she needed was one triumph, one assignment to go perfectly and she could put Mason in HER shadow for a change. Working to hide her smile once more, she checked her reflection in the outside glass walls one more time before the doors opened into His office.

Quincy sat behind his desk watching unconcernedly in his desktop monitor as the elevator began its final approach to his office. 'Ah Madigan, you really do have your ambitions don't you?' he thought as he saw her finish her self-check and give a small satisfied smile. 'Always so perfect in dress and manner.' The corporate world expected a certain style of dress of course. Quincy, on the other hand, couldn't care less what his assistants wore provided they didn't disgrace the company and they got results. In the end, even a small disgrace to the company could be forgiven if the results were good enough.

The stone-faced man suppressed a small sigh. Mason was turning into a disappointment. The young executive had one more chance to recover his place before he would be replaced. The board met in two weeks. Quincy intended to hand them the Integrated Technology Area plan as a fait accompli. After that, Mason had better be able to deliver the property. If he could, he would remain. If he couldn't, Madigan would take his place. There would be no reprieve.

With a faint sigh, the elevator door opened silently and Madigan walked out into the office. It had been redecorated again. Somewhere there was undoubtedly a interior decorator scrambling feverishly to meet the time table for the next change. The Chairman liked to put the people he talked to at a disadvantage. One of the many methods he used was to continually change the environment they met in. Looking around as subtly as she could, she had to admit, it worked. The great crystalline columns extending from the floor almost to the ceiling were incredible against the matte-black marble surrounding it. The Chairman's desk, the only constant in the office, sat atop a huge slab of marble facing into the room. Behind it the Chairman sat, seemingly absorbed in the view from his window. Madigan absently wondered if he ever actually noticed the view or if it just provided a place to rest his eyes. Her attention snapped on to him as he began to speak without turning around.

"Madigan, there is a situation within the company that has come to my attention." His voice, even when echoed from the window, seemed controlled and even. "Mason took it upon himself to rid GENOM of a petty nuisance. He failed." The word hit the desk like a solid entity leaving a hole in the air she could practically feel. "During the attempt the instrument, and the nuisance disappeared." He paused to let that sink in.

Madigan stood and silently translated. Mason had tried to have someone minor assassinated. Not only had the attempt failed but he'd also lost track of the boomer assigned and his target. Which left her to clean up after him. Perfect. Madigan suppressed a smile of satisfaction. This was just the sort of thing she'd been hoping for.

Quincy turned his chair away from the window, still not facing her. "Mason also failed to research his target thoroughly. As a result he may have opened GENOM to a much larger problem than the one he sought to fix."

Madigan's thoughts came to a screeching halt. Oh Shit! With a bit of effort she carefully controlled her expression. The Chairman NEVER referred to individuals as problems. A problem in His opinion was at least a small organization. A large problem was likely to be another multi-national. No wonder Mason had screwed up.

"The nuisance was connected to an old friend of GENOM's. Through other sources we've learned that the rescue was performed by another adversary of ours." His voice took on a slight growl. "The Knight Sabers."

It was as much emotion as she'd ever heard in His voice. If he was this upset why wasn't Mason out already?

Quincy closed his eyes and continued. "It may already be too late to stop the two from joining forces. Your task is to create as much disruption between the two as you can." Without looking he shoved a folder from his desk to the floor in front of Madigan. She bent over and picked it up. "That, is the extent of the information GENOM has on all three participants." He turned to face her his gray eyes burning into hers... "It's important that the hand of GENOM NOT be seen in this."

Despite the warning a thrill went through Madigan. He'd turned to look at her! Even if only to give a warning, it was sign she was being given a chance to get back into his good graces! The Knight Sabers! That had been Mason's pet project! Despite the odds Madigan was determined to salvage something from this mess. The Chairman turned back to the window. Madigan turned to leave, already thumbing through the material. Many of the documents had the Chairman's own hand written notes in the margins. He'd done some of the research himself? This was more serious than she had thought! Still scanning the material, she stepped into the elevator.

Quincy listened as the office swallowed the last echoes of Madigan's heels as she left. He hadn't exaggerated. This promised to actually be an interesting problem. At this point he had done everything he could. If Madigan's plans failed he could always hope his own would work. Quincy scowled. If only he'd had more time. Mason hadn't told anyone of his failure. A routine check for boomer transponders had spotted the problem. Quincy's scowl dissolved into a slight smile. If his plan worked things might be stopped yet. If not, he might have to start getting involved personally. Even together, the Hou Bang and the Knight Sabers were not much of a match for the might of GENOM. It should at least be interesting. Satisfied, Quincy turned his attention to details of importance.

Chaz stretched his arms out to their fullest length to relieve the itch that was building between his shoulder blades. A small smile played across his features. He didn't have to put up with the discomfort if he didn't want to. He could turn them off any time he wanted. Suppressing the smile he left the program on and turned his thoughts to other topics.

Sweeping his eyes over the complicated machinery he examined the inside of the KnightWing. It was probably just as well that Mackie was coming along, Chaz reflected as he helped Irene up the stairs. He really didn't have any idea how to fly the KnightWing. Sylia had said it was fairly easy to get a pilot's license today and most people in the military were trained for it at some point. Chaz shrugged, he'd probably have to learn sooner or later, and finished climbing aboard.

According to Irene's grandfather, the Chang Conglomerate had a private airfield somewhere in Hawaii. They would meet there. Something about the meeting place had struck him as being a little fishy, but Irene seemed to trust her grandfather implicitly. If Irene's family wasn't there they would have a problem. The KnightWing wouldn't have the fuel needed to allow it to return. Sylia had mentioned something about fixing that in the next generation. For now, however, they were stuck with it. Chaz made sure that Irene was comfortable and joined Mackie in the cockpit. Looking over his shoulder Chaz read some of the controls and whistled. Not bad at all. "What kind of armament are we carrying?"

Mackie looked back and frowned. "Not much. The missile racks are almost empty to save weight." He pointed at a gauge on the HUD. "That is just enough fuel to get us there with a small amount in reserve." He shrugged. "The KnightWing wasn't designed for extended trips like this and you can't fit drop tanks next to the V-tol system." He smiled. "We aren't completely defenseless though." He nodded back to the cargo area. "We're carrying a full suite of ECM equipment back there and if things get real tough there's a 25mm APSSDU (Armor Piercing Superconductor-Sheathed Depleted Uranium) railgun setup in the tail and another under the nose."

Chaz whistled again. They 'aren't completely defenseless' he said. Those railguns had a kill range measured in kilometers. If you managed to get a solid hit on something you could pretty much write it off. A thought flickered through his mind. "What about armor?"

The teen shrugged expressively. "Pretty much like the hardsuits," Mackie explained. "The idea is that you don't get hit. The KnightWing can take a pounding but it's not a juggernaut and it's a big target." He laughed. "On the flip side you have to FIND it first!" He waved at a large bank of switches and attached monitoring station to his right. "When all of those are on the only way to track the KnightWing is visually. Sis says that when she can get a cloak fabric that can handle the punishment she'll install it." Sylia's voice came into Mackie's headset. "OK." He turned back to Chaz. "Better go strap in. Sis said that the sun's gone down. We'll be leaving in less than a minute."

Chaz nodded. Despite the muffling from the padded headphones he'd heard Sylia's message. He'd particularly liked the bit about telling Mackie to stay out of the sun. Suppressing a grin at Sylia's maternal protectiveness of her brother, he walked back into the cargo area. Irene sat in her jump seat a look of sadness on her face. "Hey Irene. You all right?" Chaz asked as he strapped in next to her.

Irene shook her head slowly. "No...No, I'm not." Her moist eyes looked up at him despairingly. "I'm going back to a life I thought I'd left forever." The engine noise picked up a little. "All the reasons I left are still valid. I don't WANT to go back." Her eyes scanned his face searchingly. He seemed sympathetic but she wondered if he could really understand how she felt. According to Linna he wasn't quite human himself. Irene dropped her head to her chest feeling a little lost and alone.

Chaz put his arm around Irene's shoulder and tried to avoid noticing the slight flinch. "Whether or not you want to go back you know you have to," he said gently. Irene nodded. "When I mentioned it, you could have still chosen to go to Sylia's safehouse. Why didn't you?"

Irene felt funny about having his arm around her. It felt nice. Kind of like a warm blanket on a cold day. Briefly she debated about mentioning it. In the end curiosity go the better of her. "Why did you put your arm around me?" she asked quietly.

Chaz squirmed uncomfortably in his seat and looked down at Irene. "You looked like you needed someone to hold you," he replied more calmly than he felt. "Besides, I have the only shoulder available for you to cry on."

Irene's eyes looked up into his. "But how would a machine know how I feel?" The second she said it she felt his body stiffen.

Chaz cursed and tried to loosen up. He had better start getting used to that. Of the six people who knew, two had reacted badly. "I am or rather I was completely human for more than twenty-five years you know. I've had my share of emotional situations. Being turned into what I am didn't remove my ability to feel hurt." Despite overrides to the contrary his own eyes were filling slightly. "It could have been worse I suppose. I could have just died."

Irene felt wetness on her cheek. Tears? Irene didn't know how to react. He'd been human? Than when... "I'm sorry," she said softly. "When Linna said to be careful about mentioning you weren't human I though she meant you're a boomer."

"Boomers feel emotion too you know." He watched Irene's eyes widen. "Oh yes. Not just me. From what I understand, most feel emotion. The one's GENOM uses for combat are twisted. They only feel anger and other dark emotions. But there are others..." His voice drifted off.

"I'm sorry," Irene mumbled. "I didn't know." Her own problem seemed almost trivial in comparison. He'd lost his body but not his humanity.

"No problem," Chaz reassured her. "I have to get used to it someday." He remembered. "You didn't answer my question."

Irene snuggled closer. He really did feel nice. "I just decided that you were right. Grandfather really can protect me best. Besides," she sighed sleepily. "GENOM destroyed my main reason for straying from the family." Closing her eyes she settled into the crook of his arm. "Plus, if I go back I can help you and Linna and the Knight Sabers rather than.." She yawned. "..being a burden." Relaxing she felt herself falling asleep. She hadn't felt this safe since. . .since Akira died.

Chaz waited. After a couple of minutes Irene's breathing evened out and he knew she was asleep. He smiled. He was adjusting slowly but surely. He didn't even question it when he KNEW things anymore. He just accepted the information. The smile died a little. That could be trouble if he started letting the AI decide all the time what he needed to know. Moving slowly, to keep from waking her, he arranged Irene's jump seat into a sleeping position. Checking quickly to make sure she was still secured, he went back up front to check on Mackie.

Mackie stretched languidly and relaxed. Outside the window the stars shone brightly illuminating the tops of the clouds with a faerie light. The teen's eyes roved over the tell-tales looking for anything out of the ordinary. The KnightWing pretty much ran itself. If any of the sensors registered anything they'd sound an alarm. Satisfied that all was well he leaned back to checked on Chaz and Irene. They seemed to be relaxed and talking quietly. He shrugged to himself. He still wasn't sure that Chaz wasn't a threat, but he was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt for now. He looked again. They looked like they'd be occupied for a while. Grinning mischievously, Mackie reached over and queued up one of the videos he uploaded to the KnightWings data storage. With a slight flicker his side monitor came alive with a picture of Nene getting into her soft-suit. If any of the Knight Sabers ever found out about his collection . . . He shuddered. He didn't THINK they'd kill him. However, it WASN'T a sure bet. It was going to be a long trip, he rationalized. After all he had to stay awake somehow. Watching the videos, a small smile spread across his face. Nene might not have the body that Priss did but... Heh heh. Not that he had anything against... "You got anything on Priss in there?" Chaz said from behind him, nearly scaring Mackie out of half a years growth.

Chaz grinned. He'd been watching the show for a good ten minutes now. He knew that Mackie had managed to gather video footage on the Knight Sabers. But Whew! Where WERE some of those cameras placed?

Mackie slowly turned around and confronted one of his worst nightmares. Chaz stood there openly ogling the screen. Almost melting from the effort, his brain tried to come up with a suitable explanation. How was he going to explain this? Then the question hit him. "What do you mean 'Do I have anything on Priss in here?' " He asked carefully.

"What part of the question didn't you understand?" Chaz replied, not taking his eyes from the screen.

Mackie thought about it for a moment. Maybe he had looked at this the wrong way. Chaz was a normal guy. Well, kind of. He decided to switch tactics. "Sure, I've got some on Priss and on the others too." He pulled up the keypad and typed a quick command. The computer obligingly put Priss's videos on the screen.

Chaz thought he'd blush. If he hadn't ordered the AI not to allow it, he would have. "You know what would happen if they found out don't you?" he asked teasingly.

Mackie felt a brief chill run down his spine. "You won't tell them will you?" he asked in a panicked voice. He hadn't even taken a woman on a date yet. He didn't want to die before that.

Chaz watched the Mackie's face pale and decided to let the teen off the hook. "Nope. Just checking to see whether or not you knew the consequences." The boomer smiled evilly. "I see you do." He nodded towards the monitor. "You said you had the others too. Everybody?" he leered.

Mackie panicked. If he told the truth Sylia might find out. If he didn't tell the truth Chaz might turn him in. Thinking with a speed that would have made his father proud Mackie came up with a plan. He'd try to brazen it out. "What, do I look like the kind of guy who spy on his own SISTER?" he said in an outraged voice.

Chaz nodded absently, his eyes still following Priss's movements on the screen. "Yes, as a matter of fact you do." His eyes flicked to the teens face. Mackie's expression was priceless. But it was time to let him off the hook. "I said I wasn't going to turn you in Mackie. Relax. Besides, I wouldn't think Sylia would be caught too easily on camera," he added casually.

"What are you kidding? I have almost as much on her as I do on the rest." The teen smacked himself on the forehead, as he realized his mistake. He'd just told him. What kind of pervert did Chaz think he was now?

Chaz shrugged expressively. "I really thought Nene would be more your speed. She's closer to your age after all." Besides, I think that Sylia probably knows. He couldn't tell Mackie that of course.

Mackie squirmed uncomfortable and scratched his head in embarrassment. "I do like Nene. A lot. It's just that I have a hard time talking to her." Mackie sighed regretfully. It wasn't like he hadn't tried before. "As for the others." He shrugged. "I'm only human." Being surrounded by young, nubile, not to mention gorgeous, women would have stressed any male's hormonal levels.

Chaz reached over and turned the monitor to get a better look. "No problem. If you do get caught though. I'll deny all knowledge." He smiled. "You know...I just might be able to help you with Nene."

"Let me gather my thoughts on that first OK?" Chaz nodded absently, still engrossed by the action on the screen. Mackie thought about it for almost a full second. "I've gathered my thoughts. What do you have in mind?" he asked hopefully.

Chaz waved airily. "Dinner, dancing. Nothing fancy. Just a pleasant night out. I'll break the ice as a go-between in private. Then, all you have to do is make sure you don't talk about anything technical during the date."

"I don't know...That's kind of old fashioned and what if she says 'no'?" Mackie asked unhappily. That had always been what held him back. Fear of rejection.

Chaz smiled knowingly. "I know how you feel. Honest. But I don't think she'll say no." His smile became a broad grin as his face and hair quickly changed to match Nene's. "Besides I think she likes you," he said in perfect mimicry.

Mackie looked at what had been a man's face with trepidation. "I wish you wouldn't do that." Part of his mind wondered how far down the changes went. The rest of his mind immediately pounced on that part and proceeded to bludgeon it to death.

Chaz's face shifted back to normal. "Sorry. I tend to get carried away sometimes," he apologized. "The face and voice are easy. I'm never going to fool anyone about the rest." He gestured. "The rest of the body is packed too full to allow me to shrink very much."

Well, that answered that question. Mackie looked back at the monitor where Priss was changing into her stage costume and smiled proudly. He'd had to do some real work to get a camera into her guitar case. "So all I have to do is not talk about technical things?" Mackie asked as Chaz turned to leave.

Chaz glanced over his shoulder as a nearly nude Linna appeared on the screen and began to strip for a shower. "Nope. Not unless she brings them up." He shrugged. "Talk about how you feel, the weather, just about anything will do. If you feel lost just let her control the conversation."

Mackie relaxed as Chaz walked back to the main bay. His eyes turned to the lithe dancer on the screen as his shell shocked brain began to relax slightly.

Chaz ducked back into the cockpit, with a manic grin on his face. "Oh. And you might want to avoid mentioning that you've already seen her naked."

Mackie flinched.

Privately sympathizing with Mackie, Chaz slipped back to the cargo area. He'd been that age once too. Entering the cargo bay, he looked down at the sleeping figure of a young woman not all that much older than Mackie. She looked almost childlike as she slept; all of the worry and stress were wiped from her face.

She shivered. Chaz checked the temperature quickly. Yep, a bit cold. Stepping to the medical center, he got out a thermal blanket. He didn't really feel cold anymore. Cool yes, cold no. He knew what temperature it was and his body could make the appropriate reactions but the actual feeling. . .Nope. Shaking the blanket out to its full size, he gently covered her. As he brushed her hair out of her face she smiled in her sleep.

Chaz glanced at the smile and then at his hand. A frown momentarily crossed his face as he considered her reaction to his touch. Despite the arguments he'd given Priss he wondered if he should get Sylia to cut the power to that neural stimulator. It made him feel uncomfortable. People liked his touch. They couldn't help it. He'd liked the reaction at first. But as time wore on, he was beginning to feel it was cheating. Deal with it later, he finally decided. He looked around the KnightWings interior.

He suppressed the urge to whistle as he admired the tightly compressed layout of the KnightWing. Sylia had obviously been determined to make the most of the space available. There was a medical center, a large computer and even a small suit repair facility been built in back here. The armory was especially impressive. It looked equipped to completely re-outfit every motoroid and hardsuit the plane could carry. Carefully labeled lockers and cabinets, mostly empty for the trip, had been installed in every space not allotted to machinery or supplies. Farther back he found clearly outlined spaces for the motoroids, also empty, and a smaller open area that he guessed she'd left open for an emergency.

As he turned to go a slight anomaly caught his eye. A tarp lay covering something in the middle of the unreserved space. Everything else was either bolted in place or strapped down. This wasn't. He walked over to the intercom. "Mackie. I'm in the rear cargo area. What's under the tarp?"

There was a brief silence before the teen hesitatingly answered. "Um... That's mine. Sis won't let me build a hard suit for myself so I've been kind of using the suit repair facilities in the KnightWing and the equipment in the garage to make one."

Chaz winced theatrically. Ouch. If Sylia found out about this there would be hell to pay. "Mind if I take a look?" he asked.

"Go ahead. There's not much to see right now." Came Mackie's voice absently.

Hmm... Probably still watching his videos. Locking the intercom open, Chaz flipped back the tarp. OK. It WAS strapped down. Mackie just hadn't tied down the tarp. It looked like a giant set of medieval armor had been spit in half and spread out. Half finished pieces of myomer joints lay open and access panels hadn't even had the doors attached yet. Even when assembled it would still be at least twice the size of a normal hardsuit. "What are you planning on arming it with?" He could almost hear the shrug across the intercom.

"I'm working on the ammo feed for a Gauss Minigun. But I'd like to put in a Gatling X-Laser if sis ever figures out how they made yours."

Chaz thought about it. "Going for the bigger hammer theory huh?" Made sense really. The suit was too large for the sort of dodging the rest of the Knight Sabers did. It would make a nice big target if it didn't serve as a support suit. Mackies voice confirmed his opinion.

"My hardsuit isn't designed with a close quarters fight in mind. It's a support version. With the cannon and a couple of other things I should be able to hold my own."

Chaz nodded absently to himself. Sounded like Mackie was getting tired of sitting around worrying while the rest of the Knight Sabers got shot at. He could understand that. "OK. But you're going to have to tell her sooner or later you know."

Mackie sounded resigned. "Yeah. I kno... Holy Shit! Get up here quick!" The whole plane dipped into a sudden dive, forcing Chaz to grab a rail to stay upright. Whatever had scared the teen couldn't be good.

Mackie's board was alight with red tell-tales. Someone down there had just fired at them! He'd dropped into a dive and started evasive actions, but they really didn't have the fuel to spare for this sort of thing. The KnightWing traded speed and range for cargo capacity. Even stripped they were cutting it close.

Chaz poked his head into the cockpit. "OK. What's with the dying swan act?"

Mackie tried to grin. "Someone down there thought we were a different kind of waterfowl. A high-energy laser missed us by inches. If it had hit us it would have torn a hole through the armor." Another beam speared up from the darkness ahead of them missing even more narrowly. "I don't even know how they're aiming at us." His instruments finally managed to track the beam. "There they are. Must be six of them. Looks like some kind of big water craft." He checked his other sensors. "Yep, and heavily armed to boot. A lot of laser cannon and what looks like a particle beam weapon." He gulped. "A big one. There's no laser lock." Another beam passed just in front of the nose blinding him for a second. His eyes nervously flicked to the ECM controls. Everything glowed a cheery green. "How the hell are they tracking us!"

A bolt of greenish light flashed through the air near them rocking the plane with a clap of thunder and making sparks jump across the heavily insulated armor.

Mackie's heart surged as his anger grew to cover his fear. "All Right! I'm pissed! Do those bastards have any idea how much time I put into maintaining this thing?" Mackie's hands flew over the keypad and weapons controls. He designated a series of targets for the railguns and let the heavy electromagnets pound away at the shooters for a while.

Chaz looked out the windscreen. Another near miss struck through the darkness and power estimates crawled across the HUD and his own internal monitors. Looking past the rather large numbers, he scanned the night sky. It was a clear beautiful night. Hmm. Clear night huh? "I have an idea. Drop closer to the deck. I think they're using occluded stars to pick out our silhouette."

Mackie nodded and dropped the nose sharply. With a roar the engines added their power to the dive. Behind them a strike from the laser seared the air. "Damn!" Mackie swore. "If we had some cloud cover we could duck into that." Chaz muttered something behind him about wishes and fishes. The plane dropped to fifty meters above the deck and leveled off. Behind them a plume of water was pulled up in their wake as their huge gain in speed slowly bled off. The lasers stopped. Mackie sighed. "Do you think they gave up?" he asked Chaz.

"I've no idea. I wouldn't have expected them to attack at all." Chaz frowned. "But the implication is that they knew where we would be going. They had to have blasted the clouds away in advance to ensure a clear field of vision." Which meant someone was probably ahead of them! "Mackie get us back into the sky quick! Someone else is down here waiting for us!"

Mackie pulled back on the stick. "We can't do this again you know," he said worriedly. "We're pushing the fuel margin as it is." The plane lurched to the side as a particle beam nicked the wing leaving an after image and a roar like thunder. Mackie gulped and checked the damage estimate. "That thing strikes home and whoosh! Sayonara." He checked his navigation. "We're almost there. If we can make it another 20 kilometers without being hit we should be fine. After that we can shut down the engines to some extent and coast down." Another small hit rocked the plane. "Provided we live that long," he amended. From somewhere in back came a wail of fright.

Chaz spun towards the sound. Shit! Irene. He ducked back out of the cockpit in time to see Irene attempt to sit up against the bucking of the aircraft. "Irene stay there!" Irene was either unable to hear him over the noise or she had panicked and wasn't paying attention to anything. Damn! Grabbing the straps that bound her, he pulled them tight and moved the buckles out of reach. When she seemed to stop panicking, Chaz went back up to the cockpit.

"What's the news?" he asked Mackie.

Mackie sat concentrating on his instruments. "The bad news is we're outgunned in a severe way, we're running low on fuel and ammunition and I'm getting readings which are probably three or four flight optimized combat boomers coming up on us from the rear. The good news is the ECM system is giving them fits. Of the five ships left ahead of us three didn't have their generators shielded well enough. We put a hole through them wide enough to pass a C-55. The other two have shut down their heavy energy weapons for fear of giving their position away." He grinned. "Might have worked too with any other plane. This one has more sensors than you can shake a stick at." The grin dropped. "The trouble is we don't exactly have a lot of ammo left. So there isn't much we can do to them until we pass them and can use the tailgun."

Chaz watched as the last of the boomers were blown from the air. It was frightening how much damage those heavy railguns caused. The boomers weren't being holed so much as they were being shattered.

"What about moving the ammo from the back to the front?" Chaz jerked his thumb to the rear of the plane.

Mackie shook his head. "Even if we could, by the time you finished we'd need the ammo where it is." He paused thoughtfully. "What's the range on your lasers anyway?"

Chaz shrugged. "According to the computer they're fully effective for about 600 meters, after that dissipation sets in and you might as well be throwing rocks." High powered rocks but rocks nonetheless.

Mackie looked up. "That's not much. Probably sacrificed range for more close-in power. Would have been useful if it had been longer. There are a couple gunports built into the fuselage." He opened the engines to full throttle. "I've been keeping the engines as low as possible to try to shake anything they might have on us," he explained over the roar of the hungry engines. "But if we're going to make a run for it now would be the best time."

Chaz shrugged. "What I know about flight tactics you could fit on to the head of a monofilament pin with room left over." Chaz watched as Mackie played with the engines to keep them just under Mach One. "What is the KnightWings top speed anyway?" he asked curiously.

Mackie checked the speed gauge and cursed. One of the engines was overheating. He'd have to tear it down and check it when they got back. "You're looking at it. The flight characteristics go to hell after Mach. The engines have more thrust to give but the KnightWing was designed for payload not speed." He waved at the screen and smiled as relief washed through him. "That lost them. We probably left an infra-red plume that a boyscout couldn't miss but they thought we were going to try to maintain stealth." He looked at his instruments. "Well, one smart boy did manage to get a missile off but the ECM took care of it." He throttled back. "You should go strap in and make sure Irene's OK. We'll be coming up on the airstrip in a couple of minutes. Hold onto your seat when we come in though." With a sputter the starving engines began stalling. "I don't think this is exactly going to be a fun landing."

Chaz nodded and walked back. Irene lay on her jump seat glaring at him. Chaz walked over and strapped in next to her. Reaching over he loosened the strap to let her move her arms.

Irene's eyes bored into him. "About time! Was that truly necessary for a little turbulence? I would have been fine if I hadn't been having a nightmare. What if we'd crashed?" The tone with which she asked implied that any answer he gave would be the wrong one.

Chaz shrugged. "I didn't have the time to do anything else. Someone took a couple potshots at the plane."

Irene's angry expression changed to one of horror. "Not GENOM?"

He gave a helpless shrug. "I don't think so. Maybe hired thugs. I really don't know." Frustrating as that may be at times. "Anyway, we got away. Mackie said we should be landing soon."

Irene turned the glare back on. "You Jerk! You could have told me you know. I'm not a child."

"I know. I'm sorry," Chaz said contritely. "I didn't have a lot of time to think about it."

Irene flashed an imp's grin. "You know I could just sit here and make you suffer, but I'm not going to. Instead, I'm going to forgive you, like the good soul I am." This time.

The plane shuddered and began slowing even more drastically as the landing gear extended. Mackie double-checked the altimeter and airspeed. Shouldn't be a problem there was enough fuel left, barely. A couple of key-presses activated his ground scanning macro. Hmm... With a flick of his finger he activated the intercom. "Chaz, the whole area except for the landing field is hidden from most of my sensors. From what I can detect through their jamming I'd say that there are at least fifty heavily armed men out there. I'm also getting some kind of sensor shadow that looks like a spider crossed with a tank." His voice took on a concerned note. "We really don't have the fuel to take off again. So when you talk to them make it good." Checking the ground carefully Mackie, made his final approach to the lighted landing zone.

Kou stood watching as the stealth plane coasted in. His sharp eyes took in the bared metal where some of the armor had been damaged and the stealth coating destroyed. He eyed the approach warily it looked smooth enough if a little fast. Shouldn't the engines be slowing it down? As if on cue, the black plane pulled up sharply to break it's speed and then dropped into a perfect V-tol landing. Kou gasped. To dump speed like that was dangerous at best. Why? Then the question answered itself. With a final distinctive gasp the last of Mackie's fuel poured into the turbines. Kou suppressed a smile. He'd heard that sound once before and he wasn't about to forget it. It also meant that the plane couldn't take off without help. Perfect.

Inside the plane Chaz resisted the urge to strangle Mackie and unstrapped. Irene followed suit and they were soon standing by the exit hatch. Chaz rested a hand on the opening mechanism and turned to Irene. "Mackie's going to stay inside and blank the windscreen. If anyone asks, I was the pilot. If anyone mentions it, I'm completely human. Given your families history with boomers I'd rather not tell them right away." Irene nodded nervously. Chaz pushed the button that opened the loading ramp and led the way out.

The airfield was dark, the only light coming from the landing lights on the helicopter pad and the light streaming from the inside of the KnightWing. Carefully scanning, Chaz motioned Irene to stay inside and walked out on to the field. The enhanced olfactory sensors went to work and his nose flared as he drank in the night air. Despite the electronic jamming he could still distinguish scents. Mackie was right. There were at least fifty people out there, most holding some kind of machine-gun and one with a heavily shielded railgun. He smiled. Someone had forgotten to cover the power cell. He couldn't see the GBX-1 though. Mackie's voice came over his radio. "I know you've spotted the first one by now. But did you spot the other railgun pointing at your chest from the other side of the pad? There are also two missile arrays out there quite capable of blowing the KnightWing into scrap. I've leveled the nose gun at one of them and the tail gun at the other." Chaz couldn't make a response without giving the game away. Telling his AI to stick to passive sensors, he continued to survey the area. A high-pitched whine inaudible to most humans pricked his attention and the AI immediately identified it. A few people out there had military lasers. Not good. The railguns he could conceivably dodge if he heard them building up a charge before they fired. The machine guns he could largely ignore. Well, maybe not the chaingun he heard spinning. The hand-held automatic lasers were a problem though. One or two hits wouldn't be bad but there were at least fifteen out there. He couldn't pick up any serious sensors. So they didn't know what he was yet. He wondered why the reception was so big. "Don't move we have you surrounded." Came an amplified voice from back by the first railgun. Chaz stifled a snort. No kidding.

An Asian man in a gray business suit stepped out of the shadows, his laser carbine leveled on Chaz's chest. "Where is Miss Chang?"

"Kou!" Irene ran down the ramp and put her body between Chaz and Kou. "What the hell are you doing?" Kou's arm twitched up to move the point of aim to Chaz's head. "Come over here Miss Irene," he said calmly. Chaz noticed that Kou's gun never wavered. Well, at least a professional would kill him. A smile fought to creep over his face. Well maybe not kill but certainly inconvenienced.

Irene didn't budge. "Kou put that gun down. What's going on here? This is the man who rescued me!" She seemed near tears but the anger in her voice was unmistakable. "Is this how we treat someone to whom we owe a debt?"

Chaz watched as a plume of infrared sprang up around Kou. Jeez! That pissed him off! He wondered why... Oh, of course. Stepping back from Irene, Chaz dropped to his knees and put his hands behind his head. Mackie's panicked voice came over the radio. "Chaz what the hell are you doing?" Chaz cursed and decide to risk a brief transmission. "We've been set up. GENOM planted a rumor of some kind. Kou is mostly afraid for Irene's safety. Everybody here is willing to lay down their life to protect her." Which means that they would only shoot if he thought she was in danger. "What they will probably do is make sure it's her while I am kept in 'protective custody'. If you or I do anything that puts Irene in danger they will do their level best to kill us and keep Irene alive." Chaz spoke out loud. "Irene walk very slowly towards Kou. It's all right, they're just concerned."

Irene hesitated, then, with a steady stride, she walked over to Kou and slapped him! "Once you find out the truth. You WILL apologize to him!" She was led out of Chaz's sight.

Ouch! Chaz could see the imprint from her hand without magnification. He had to give Kou credit. He hadn't flinched and the gun hadn't moved more than an inch.

Kou gestured. "Get up slowly. Hands in the air, palms forward."

Chaz complied. Humored by the whole situation. Kou, if I wanted to I could blow a hole through you without moving my hands from this position. He had to direct his AI not to draw a laser bead on Kou for that very purpose. X-ray or not they MIGHT detect it and the last thing he wanted was the arsenal out there opening fire.

Kou waved four men forward. The first two put a set of handcuffs on him carefully. While he was being cuffed the second two ran hand scanners over him. "Nothing sir." The second team called back. "He's clean."

As Kou walked forward, the field lights came on. Kou stood before Chaz appraising him in the now adequate light for a moment. "We received word from our agents today that Miss Irene was set up in that incident you 'saved' her from. Word was that the Knight Sabers had taken a contract from the Gulf & Bradley Corporation to kill the head of the Chang family." He paused. "It COULD be a trick to make us distrust you. We took that possibility into account." A group of men headed for the KnightWing.

"Don't let them go in there." Chaz said in as rough a voice as he could. The warning also served as a message of their intent to Mackie. His ears could just make out the subsonics his voice system added to make the message more effective.

Kou shivered slightly but rallied. "Why not?" he asked.

Chaz looked him in the eye using the hypno at its lowest setting. "Would you like people walking around in one of your planes while you weren't present?"

'Sounds reasonable.' Kou found himself thinking. He shook himself. What did he mean 'sounds reasonable?' That's the one of the weakest excuses he'd ever heard! He looked hard at the man in front of him. Something was not right here. His thinking was interrupted by a voice from behind. "It's Miss Chang all right sir. She seems to be in her right mind. She says this man flew the plane alone and dodged some incoming fire on the way in. She's also saying she wants to speak to her grandfather." The man looked sheepish. "More of a demand really." Kou winced. This is where things were going to get tricky. He half-turned to give orders. "Recall the inspection team. Leave the plane alone for now. Put our guest somewhere comfortable. I'll contact Mr. Chang for Miss Irene myself." Incoming fire huh? That would explain the beams of light his men had spotted off the coast a little while ago.

Mackie was uncomfortable. The men searching the craft had been called off after a couple of seconds. But it had still been pretty close. If they had thought to check the hardsuit lockers they would have found him. He could probably assume that they had left someone at the door and a couple of people around the KnightWing to guard it. Mackie quietly walked back to the cockpit. The passive sensors didn't require much power and could run off the batteries indefinitely. To use the railguns would use up the little bit of power left in their capacitors, maybe two shots apiece. Determined to use them if he had to, Mackie decided to settle in with his sensors to keep watch over the watchers. Distracted by his thoughts, Mackie walked by the armory and didn't notice an empty bin where a gun module should have been.

Chaz was taken to a brightly lit tent stocked with refreshments and released from his handcuffs. The guard withdrew leaving the flap of the tent open. So they don't trust me not to try something. NOT very reassuring. Probably Kou's standing orders. Chaz looked out the flap. Two guards holding machine-guns sat some distance apart and were looking into the tent from different angles. Very efficient. Even if I had a weapon I couldn't use it without one sounding the alarm. The way they sit makes it impossible to get both quickly. At the same time their field of vision covers most of the tent. He smiled. Wouldn't stop me though. I can draw a bead on both of them and fire while they watch me. Neither one would know a thing until it was too late. Then he spotted his mistake. Shit! They have watchers for the watchers! Besides the two guards he could see, he could detect that there were two more guards. He could see the signature of the power cells in their laser rifles and the smaller ones in their thermograph headsets. And from their positions they could see the sides and back of the tent. Anyone in the tent would have assumed that the two guards out front were all that was there. They were certainly enough against most people. That thought gave him a chill. They had either assumed he was a premiere assassin or they thought he was a boomer. Neither circumstance was conducive to his continued good health.

Kou leaned back in his chair. This whole mess was giving him a headache. First, an assassin boomer almost kills Miss Irene. A man from out of nowhere rescues her. The man turns out to be a member of the Knight Sabers. After hiding Miss Irene for two days the Knight Sabers contact Mr. Chang and offer to return Miss Irene. They agreed to the location of the pickup without argument. Meanwhile an agent in Gulf & Bradley dies while transmitting the news that all of the above is false. That in fact the Knight Sabers had taken a contract to kill Mr. Chang. The craft lands where it was supposed. With, Kou admitted, sufficient caution the supposed captors returned Miss Irene. Kou didn't believe for a second that 'Chaz' was the only person besides Miss Irene that was on that strange jet. However, he didn't let that worry him too much. The missile launchers had been manually aimed at the spot where it sat. No ECM in the world would stop them. 'Chaz' was what worried him most. Despite the information the Hou Bang had gathered, 'Chaz' remained a complete blank. Kou closed his eyes. Even Miss Irene hadn't been erased as thoroughly. The Knight Sabers had never been seen to have any male members. He wasn't a boomer. They had checked THAT very carefully. The Hou Bang had learned the hard way to be careful of boomers. He'd passed on all the information that he'd had to Mr. Chang it was up to him now. He stood up. Miss Irene should be finished by now.

Irene walked out of the communication tent. She stretched as she took in the jungle scented night air. It had taken a while but she thought she had convinced him. God! He could be so stubborn at times. She admitted that she might have been duped at first. But not over the course of several days. If they were actors of that quality . . . She shrugged. At least she would be killed by the best. She smiled. It didn't seem very likely. Humming she walked off into the star studded night to find Kou. Behind Irene a shadow broke away from the wall and followed her.

Mackie leaned earnestly against the console and replayed the last few seconds of the video segment again. There! That section. Now, just a few more enhancements. This could be the most important section of the whole video. Cool sweat lightly beaded on his forehead as he concentrated on the work before him. It had taken him almost two days to develop the program that was sifting the information in a few seconds he would find out if it were worth it. Pixel by pixel the image began to reassemble itself. Relief sighed through him. It'd worked. Smiling with satisfaction Mackie pressed the play button. One by one the female Knight Sabers doffed their towels and walked into the now easily viewed shower room. The frosted glass that had previously blocked his camera was no longer a problem. The program deduced the refraction pattern from the shape of known objects and put the disturbed pixels back where they belonged. Relaxing, Mackie lounged back in his chair and watched as Priss squirted Nene with cold water. Now all he had to do is figure out how to get clear sound over the interference of the running water.

Moving through the jungle after his quarry; Irene's shadow was regretting everything. If what he was doing could be called thinking. One look in his eyes would convince any competent psychotherapist that this man needed serious help. Inside his head his thoughts were running like scared rabbits trying to avoid a fox. He hated to do it. There just wasn't really any choice. It was his family or Miss Irene. The Knight Sabers had chosen the wrong enemy this time. His family lived in Japan. They said they would kill them! He couldn't watch his daughter . . . He didn't have a choice! He slowly pulled the small laser module he'd stolen from the Knight Saber's aircraft and aimed it at Irene's back. She was all-alone. It should be easy. He wished it wasn't.

Kou rounded the corner. His mind had barely enough time to take in the scene and realize what was happening before his body was in full motion. "Nooo!" he screamed. With a speed unexpected in someone his size, he ran for the would be assassin.

The shadow was startled by the noise. Without thinking his hand clenched on the trigger. When Kou's body slammed into him it had been too late for half a second.

Irene heard the cry and had half turned when the pain hit. Screaming, she dropped to the ground. The pain wouldn't stop! She could feel it burning in her abdomen. Still screaming, her hands flailed trying to put out flames she could feel burning her.

Chaz heard the cry and was moving at full speed before his conscious mind had recognized the voice. "Irene!" Plowing furrows in the semi-hard ground, he went through the wall of the tent, the tough, knife proof material barely slowing him. The guards on that side of the tent barely managed to bring their guns up before he ran past them.

Kou was desperately calling for help. The man he had tackled was fighting like he was possessed. No matter what he tried he couldn't get away to help Miss Irene! Using every skill he possessed he tried to finish the fight quickly. To no avail.

Chaz, his legs and arms a blur of motion, had run over two guards and through two more tents before the alarm began to sound. Irene was just ahead. He knew she was. Her voice had gone hoarse in seconds but he could still make out her moaning. The odor of burning human flesh only made him want to run faster. Breaking into the open, he saw Irene lying on the ground writhing in pain and Kou wrestling with someone directly on top of him. Without breaking stride, Chaz kicked out and knocked the man off Kou. He heard ribs snap briefly as he ran by. Then he was beside her.

Kou didn't even see the kick. One second he was fighting, the next his opponent lay on his side holding crushed ribs. Kou hardly noticed him. Miss Irene needed him! Scrambling to his feet he started running.

Irene felt a slight break in the white-hot pain that surrounded her. A slight pressure on her skin that seemed to chase the pain away slightly. With each passing second the pain seemed to be getting farther away. Irene opened her eyes and looked up. "Chaz?" She could barely feel his hands moving over her and around her. "What happened?" Her voice was soft and frightened. "It hurts."

Kou's men were running towards them with their guns drawn. Kou yelled for a doctor and dropped to his knees beside Irene's prostrate body. "Irene?" The question a hope and a prayer.

Chaz knew she wasn't likely to make it. The laser had blown a hole through her lower spine, lung and liver. There was very little bleeding but the shock alone was likely to kill her. "Irene? Irene hon can you hear me?" Chaz felt his eyes begin to fill and quickly overrode the impulse.

Irene was having trouble focusing. Everything was beginning to feel cold. "Kou? Chaz? I'm scared. Hold me tighter." He still felt good. Even through the pain she could feel his soothing touch. But why was he holding her so lightly? "Don't stop holding me. You feel so nice," she said sleepily. Somewhere in the back of her head she knew she was probably dying. Odd. It didn't hurt as much as she had thought it would. Part of it even felt... pleasant.

Chaz looked up at Kou's numbed face. "Kou, I can't hold her any tighter without hurting her. She's going into shock," he said his voice thick and sad.

Kou just stared at the sad, tearless face across from him. How could he have made such a mistake? Irene was dying and it was his fault! He looked into the face of a man he hardly knew. How could I have been so wrong?

The gray hared and rumpled doctor arrived at a dead run. He was fully aware of how unprepared he was for an emergency. They had been preparing to leave! All the equipment had been packed! What was he supposed to do? He shoved Kou aside and was nearly punched before the anxious young man realized who it was. "What happened?" he said in as calm a voice as he could manage. Years of practice kept his hands and his face steady as he started pulling things from his trauma bag.

Irene was basking in the pleasant feeling coursing through her. The pain was still there but it was as if it were muffled. Why couldn't she feel her legs? What was wrong? It was so hard to think. "Kou? Where are you? Grandfather? Reika? Somebody?" Panic seized her until she felt a light burst of pleasure as Chaz kissed her forehead.

Kou took Irene's hand and held it tightly. At the touch a light, not unpleasant tingle ran through his fingers. "I'm here Irene." He turned to the doctor and waved at the moaning man being strapped to a stretcher. "He fired a laser at Miss Irene. It caught her in the back and passed through to the front..."

He didn't even think twice. A choice between his secret and Irene's life was no choice at all. Chaz waved his hand for Kou to be quiet. "She was shot in the fifth lumbar vertebrae. The bone was cleanly sliced. The spinal cord is definitely severed. The beam continued through the left lung and liver. There's no major blood loss from the incision and both the lung and the liver have been cauterized. The lung is partially collapsed and slowly filling with fluid."

The doctor didn't ask, he didn't need to know. "OK roll her gently onto the back board. We need to get her to a hospital right away. Keep her warm. Don't let her fall asleep." He lifted a syringe. "I can't give her anything for the pain it might make her fall asleep. This will help keep her awake."

Kou came around. "What can we do?"

The doctor looked to Kou. "Miss Chang has to go to a hospital immediately. If he's right the wounds won't kill her immediately but the shock might."

Kou nodded. "I'll get a chopper we'll take her to..."

"The KnightWing has an level three med-center. Will that do?" Chaz asked.

The doctor nodded. "Perhaps. If not, it should be faster than a helicopter." A level three med-center was equipped for most trauma situations. If he couldn't stabilize Miss Chang there she likely wouldn't make it to the hospital no matter how fast they went.

Kou waved an attendant over. "Start fueling it. If we have to leave we'll only need enough fuel to make it to Tripler Medical Hospital." If we don't leave soon it won't matter anyway. The thought wasn't a pleasant one.

To his credit the attendant didn't waste time talking, he just took off at a dead run.

Chaz called Mackie over the com-link. "Mackie prep the med-center. Irene's been shot with a laser. We need everything ready to go when we get her there. Close and lock anything we can't let others see and keep careful track of who comes in."

Irene looked up her eyes wide with fright and growing pain. "Chaz? Kou? Don't leave me." Her voice sounded tired. "I can't feel my legs." Her hands gripped theirs tighter. "I don't want to die." Chaz gently removed his hand from the back of her head as he let the neuro-stimulator go back to it's normal setting. Irene tensed as the pain began to return.

"That's the drug working." The doctor noted as they carried her into the KnightWing. "It's helping her stay awake."

Kou and Chaz placed Irene on the operating table and were brushed aside by the doctor and his team. Mackie remained to help them with the equipment.

Kou walked off to deal with their would be assassin. Chaz remained sat outside the KnightWing and waited. Around him scurried men with purpose and though it went against the grain he couldn't help without getting in the way. After a couple of hours Kou came back. "What's the story on your friend?" Chaz asked Kou quietly.

Kou looked sick. He'd been betrayed by one of his own people. Kou looked up at the waning moon just setting behind the mountains. What he'd had to do to that poor tormented man to get him to tell what had occurred would haunt him for years. Only long practice enabled him to put his professional face back on. When he spoke he was all business again. "He was in near hysterics. He kept saying he was a Knight Saber and that he had to kill Irene." Kou took a deep breath. "His name is Nakayama. He's been with us for years. I don't know what someone did to him but he's been broken. He'll never be a whole man again." He shrugged. "I don't think he ever knew who had his family."

Chaz didn't even pause to think. "GENOM."

Kou didn't argue. "Probably. We'll never know for certain. The laser he used isn't one of ours. He probably got it when he searched your plane. He was supposed to kill her and frame you. That much I managed to get out of him." Kou swallowed. "I'm sorry. I misjudged you."

Chaz waved it off. "You were doing your job."

Kou looked towards the med center. "Not well enough." His head dropped. "If your plane hadn't had a medical facility she wouldn't have made it." The thought alone was enough to make his heart ache. Despite his professionalism he was beginning to get the shakes. He'd known Irene since they were kids. She was family.

Together they sat in silence until the doctor came out.

Gray hair plastered to his head with sweat he dropped exhausted into the offered chair. "Miss Chang is stable. We took care of most of the damage." He shook his head. "I don't know if I can make the nerves regenerate or not yet. She could be crippled for life." The doctor started to cry. "I did the best I could." He'd served the Hou Bang for years. He'd been present when both Irene and Reika were born. Like so many others close to the Changs he considered them family.

Kou moved to comfort the man. "It's all right we all know you did. At least she's alive."

Chaz watched while Kou comforted the doctor like a brother. So this was the way their organization kept loyalty. A better basis than most, he admitted.

The doctor gathered himself returned Kou's hug quickly and stood. "She's awake and asking for both of you." His expression turned stern. "You've got two minutes. That's it."

Irene looked up from her bed at Kou and Chaz standing side by side. "Did you apologize to him yet?" she asked quietly.

Kou nodded. "Yes, Miss Irene." He looked at Chaz. "I misjudged him."

Irene sighed. "Good." She smiled a little. "That makes me glad to hear." Her smile faded a little. "The doctor says that I need to go to a real hospital where they can watch over me."

Kou reached down and took her hand. "All the arrangements are being made. Mr. Chang and Miss Reika will be there to meet you when you arrive."

Irene looked up at Chaz. "Aren't you coming?" She didn't want him to go.

"I can't stay," he said shaking his head. "For better or worse my life isn't in the US anymore." He smiled. "But I'll call you when I get the chance."

Irene's eyes filled with tears but she understood. She lifted her hand and took off her ring. "My fiancee gave this to me when he proposed. I'd like you to have it." She placed it in his palm and wrapped his fingers around it. "Will you hold me one more time before you leave?"

Chaz wrapped his arms around Irene and for the second time that night turned up the stimulator. Irene seemed to melt into his arms as her pain disappeared in less than a minute she fell asleep.

Kou and Chaz walked outside in the compound. Around them Kou's men finished breaking down the airfield and camp. Chaz's gaze drifted over to the KnightWing where Mackie was busy keeping people away from the planes more sensitive and secret systems while they refueled it. They walked to the edge of camp away from everyone else. Kou brushed off a fallen log and sat facing the camp. Together they watched the final preparations being made. Kou finally broke the silence. "Does she know?" he asked tentatively.

Chaz didn't feel like playing guessing games. "Yeah."

"You know she loves you?" Kou asked.

Chaz shook his head. "That's just shock and loss. She needs more right now. I can't give it to her." He raised his hand to forestall Kou. "I care for her. But not like that. I only met her for the first time less than a week ago. I don't really know her yet."

Kou thought about it. "I think it may be more than just that. You came to rescue a woman you didn't know at the risk of your own life. That shows a strength of character that many don't have."

Chaz couldn't meet Kou's gaze. "Wait for her to stop grieving for her fiancee," Chaz said, "then we'll talk about it."

Kou nodded gently. That was as close to a request to drop it as he was likely to get. "On another subject Mr. Chang told me to give you this." Kou pulled off his ring. "After Irene's gift this seems shoddy in comparison. Still, I beg you to accept."

Reaching out Chaz accepted the ring. He looked at it. A solid silver band held a black signet with a gold stylized tiger on it. The ring of the Hou Bang. "Why?"

"Mr. Chang told me to tell you that the Hou Bang owes you the greatest debt it has ever been under." Kou paused to let that sink in. "That ring is the second oldest in the family. Mr. Chang wanted me to give you his ring. I told him I would prefer to give you mine. You are part of the family now. And your family is also."

Chaz just looked at the ring in shock. The Knight Sabers. He meant the Knight Sabers. "I'm honored. But I can't accept for the others." I'm dead. Sylia's going to kill me. If Linna doesn't get me first.

Kou waved it aside. "Whether they accept or not the debt is still extended to them." He smiled sadly. "Mr. Chang would also like to request that his new son visit him when his grand-daughter is better. He wishes to meet the man that can so erase himself from the world."

Mackie opened the throttle and started the race against the sun that would end with the KnightWing back in its garage before the end of the night. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to tell sis about this trip. The truth wasn't especially pretty. He looked in the back. Chaz was still playing with the ring. Ah well. He'd get over it. The Doc had said that Irene would get better after all. Turning his attention towards more interesting thoughts Mackie keyed up his Linna videos. God! Sometimes he wondered if she was that flexible in bed too. Probably. Not that you're ever likely to find out, his mind pointed out. "I thought you were interested in Nene," Chaz spoke up from behind him. Mackie nearly jumped out of his skin! "Don't do that!" Chaz's laughter echoed through the plane all the way home.


	3. Chapter 3

Priss sauntered down the stairs that led to Chaz's room. Sylia had said he could use this section of the basement until he found a place of his own. Somehow, Priss didn't think that was likely to be soon. The auburn hared singer grinned. She certainly wouldn't move out. The pool and all the other amenities you could ask for were right upstairs. If your alarm went off at night, all you had to do was quickly walk to the changing room or take the tube to 'pop' Raven's place. The list went on and on. Priss reached the bottom of the stairs. She raised her hand to knock. Then she heard the voices. "So do you want to go on a date Friday?" That was Chaz's voice! Who was he talking to? "Sure. I'd love to go!" Nene?

Inside the room Chaz and Nene were sitting on the sofa talking over a couple beers. Nene had at first wondered why he had said that he wanted to talk to her. This was turning out to better than she hoped. A date! She hadn't had the chance to go out with a guy since she joined the Knight Sabers. "So where are we going?" she asked cheerfully.

Chaz was feeling high. He hadn't been sure how she would react. "I thought that new romance movie and maybe dinner and dancing. How does that sound?" It had better sound good, he thought. He'd had enough trouble getting everything set up. He'd been kind of worried that she'd say no.

Walking away from the door, Priss was barely keeping a rein on her temper. It wasn't because she liked him, she told herself. She'd just come down here to ask him if he wanted to go out. Nothing special. Nene's six years younger than him for God's sake! How could he think of going out with her? Still fuming Priss walked back up the stairs. Fine then. He can go after that red-haired jailbait. See if she cared.

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MegaTokyo 2032

The Knight Sabers

"A Certain Point of View"

Chapter Three- Ripples in the Water

Copyright (c) 2005 Charles S. Stitman

Nene clapped her hands in delight. "That sounds perfect! When does Mackie want to pick me up?" She smiled. This was going to be fun!

Chaz leaned back into the beat up couch. "I thought he could pick you up after you finish work on Friday. That way you don't have to go to work tired the next day."

Nene blushed.

Chaz realized what she thought he'd meant. "I just thought you would like a break after being out all night," he explained hurriedly.

Nene nodded. "You know, Mackie could have asked me himself. It's a little old fashioned to ask someone to act as a go-between like this." Besides Mackie was cute even if he was a little younger than her. It's not like she would have said no. Chaz was nice and, when he wanted to be, drop dead gorgeous. But Nene knew where she stood with him. He definitely saw her as his little sister. She grinned inwardly. Someday she might surprise her face-changing friend.

Chaz held up his hand. "Yeah, I know. I kind of volunteered for the job. He seemed likely to 'gaze at her from afar' forever." But it had worked. Now all Mackie had to do was to keep from screwing it up. He stood up and adjusted a non-existent tie. "Now it's my turn."

Nene looked up. "You finally going to ask Priss out?" She felt a flash of jealousy for her friend but quickly suppressed it. It was about time. They'd either been avoiding each other or being too bright and cheerful since he got here. Her thoughts unconsciously mirrored Chaz's. Now all he has to do is keep from screwing up.

"Yeah, how'd you guess?" he asked puzzled.

Nene rolled her eyes.

Chaz walked into the meeting room. Nobody. Hmm, that's odd. She'd been talking to Sylia earlier. Chaz wandered down to the hardsuit storage room, although he doubted Priss would be there. But he enjoyed looking over HIS hardsuit.

It had been designed around the same idea as Linna's, but in place of the mono-wire whips and heavy blaster, he had built-in ports to allow his X-ray lasers to fire. Her blasters had more stopping power, but his X-ray lasers had better penetration. After a lot of argument, that he thought Sylia had made more for the humor value than anything else, he'd gotten the high heel jump system removed as well.

His gaze raked over the glossy finish. Chaz, be honest with yourself. As a work of technology it was fantastic, the culmination of many a fanboys wet dreams. Aesthetically . . . it was like looking at a beautiful Lamborgini… painted metallic green. It was a little too generic, and the orange/white color scheme turned his stomach. He'd complained, only to be told that Sylia didn't have the time to change it. The only other person who could was Mackie . . .

Chaz smiled. Now, there's a thought.

He looked around the underground garage. Nobody appeared to be here either. His eyes caught a drift of heat coming from under one of the trucks. Figures. Chaz walked over to the truck and looked underneath. Mackie stood in the auto workspace doing something highly illegal to the engine that almost certainly voided the warranty. "Hey genius! Nene said yes!" Mackie didn't seem to notice at first, being too involved in his project. The boomeroid grinned and counted down slowly. Three. . Two. . One. .

The words visibly registered on Mackie. He turned to face Chaz. "Really? She said yes?" At Chaz's nod, he jumped "Yahoo . . . Ite." Chaz winced in sympathy. Mackie had forgotten about the truck.

"What are you up to down there?" Chaz asked.

Mackie with one hand on his head checking for bumps waved with the other at the disassembled engine. "The truck had a little engine trouble after the last mission. So after I retuned the KnightWings engines I thought I'd give it a tune up."

Chaz shook his head in exasperation. Mackie really needed to get out more. He waved at the large piece of machinery waiting to be installed. "And that's a spark plug right?"

Mackie grinned ruefully. "OK. Maybe I did want to improve the performance of the power plant a little." He grabbed a rag and walked out from under the truck.

"The date is set for next Friday," Chaz said. "I've already made all the arrangements. All you have to do is show up." And pay for it of course. "It's just like we talked about. Movie, dinner and dancing. Think you can handle that?"

Mackie nodded eagerly. "Sure. And if you need a favor don't hesitate to ask."

Chaz gave the teen a wicked grin. "You know, it's funny you should say that . . . "

Mackie's smile turned slightly sick and his fingers gripped the rag a bit harder. He got the feeling he shouldn't have.

Chaz pulled up next to Priss's place. She wasn't supposed to be working tonight and it was still pretty early. Yep, Her bike was in its usual hiding place. He could see the cooling engine in the darkness. Probably left just before Nene did. He knocked on the door. Priss opened the door. "Hi Priss." Chaz tried to look as confident as he could, completely missing Priss's expression. "I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight." Priss seemed to consider the thought for a moment.

God! He had nerve! He got a date with Nene and then comes right over here like nothing happened and asks me out. Priss wasn't sure if she was more upset about the order she came in or that he was going to two-time Nene. Well! He wasn't going to get away with it. "You jerk!" Her fist flashed out striking him across the cheek. Hard.

Chaz reached up to get some bandages down from the cupboard. "You know you really have to stop going around slapping boomers like that." Moving aside a huge stack of instant ramen, he pulled the bandages and tape down. "What was the problem anyway?" He sat next to her on the beaten up couch and started wrapping her hand. In a way he was perversely glad she'd hit him. It meant that for at least a moment she'd forgotten what he was.

Priss was furious with herself. She had almost forgotten about he was a boomer, and then this. Bastard wasn't even bruised. It had purpled for a second than it had faded. "How could you make a date with Nene and then come over here and ask me out?" With a wrench she pulled her hand away from Chaz's help and continued wrapping it herself. "I was outside the door when you asked her."

Chaz smiled to himself. That explained it. This should be good. He made his voice as cold as possible. "You know people who listen in on other's conversations generally get what they deserve." He ignored her flashing eyes. "I was asking Nene out all right . . . "

Priss broke in as her pride flashed into a roaring fire. "That's another thing! How could you go out with Nene and not with..."

"For Mackie," Chaz said letting the other shoe drop.

"me." Priss stammered to a stop and the flame abruptly extinguished itself. She hadn't done it in years. She couldn't believe she was doing it now. Priss blushed.

Chaz grinned and looked into her eyes. "Now what was that you were saying?" He was going to enjoy this thoroughly.

"You were asking Nene out for Mackie?" she asked almost meekly.

Chaz nodded. "Yup." God! This made up for the time she'd embarrassed him by taking pictures during his suit fitting.

Priss glared at him, cold suspicion quickly chilling her heated embarrassment. "You're enjoying this aren't you?" she accused. Chaz's face changed to mirror her own glare. Priss watched as her face changed expression. In moments she saw her own mocking smile. "Yep." Her own voice too! God-damn it! She grabbed him around his throat. "Do that again and I'll make copies of those pictures I took and give them to Sylia, Linna and Nene, maybe even Mackie."

What was she? A mind reader? Chaz changed his face back. "You wouldn't!" He saw the gleam of triumph in her eyes. "You would." He sighed. "Okay. I'll stop." He'd almost forgotten what he came here for. "You never did answer my question you know."

Priss thought about it. "Actually tonight's no good to go out." She raised one eyebrow playfully at his disappointed expression. "I'm washing my hair."

"Ouch." Chaz winced theatrically. He'd said the same thing when Priss had asked him to go hear her play at Hot Legs. He collapsed back onto the couch clutching an imaginary wound. "A touch. I do confess it I fear I breathe my last."

Priss ignored the sarcasm and moved closer on the couch. "So I guess we'll just have to stay home tonight." Priss snuggled in closer. "So Hamlet," she said tilting her head up to his. "What should we do tonight?"

Stifling the obvious literary reply, Chaz slowly bent his head down to hers. The promise of a warm sweet kiss beckoned from her lips.

The watch alarms went off of course. Quickly grabbing the startled Priss, he gave her a quick, deep kiss. "I promise the next one will be longer," he whispered quickly. With a surge of motion he was on his feet. "Come on Priss!" he said as he pulled her up.

Priss was a little lost in the haze. She'd wanted to. .And that kiss . . . Shaking herself she grabbed her keys and helmet and headed for the door. Chaz was already closing the door of Sylia's car as Priss came out. "I'll race you there!" Priss called out as Chaz pulled out into the road. "The loser buys dinner for the winner!" Without waiting for him to answer Priss started her engine.

A few minutes later Chaz walked into the changing room grinning from ear to ear. Priss came in right behind him, a disgusted look on her face. Sylia, Linna and Nene were already in their hardsuits as the pair stripped and pulled on theirs.

"Why the smile Chaz?" asked Nene as she helped tighten Priss's softsuit.

Chaz nodded at the irate Priss. "Ask the speed demon there. She challenged me to a race."

Sylia looked up sharply. "Not in my car!" she said in a horrified voice. "That car's a collector's item!"

Chaz waved her off as he finished slipping on his hardsuit. "I didn't even have to speed. She got pulled over by the THP halfway here."

Nene and Linna laughed. Even Priss's silent glare didn't stop them.

Together they walked out of the changing room and into the truck. As soon as the door closed Mackie pulled out of the garage.

Poor Priss, Mackie thought sarcastically as he pulled off the highway and changed the truck's camouflage to a delivery truck macro. He'd had to take the damn thing apart twice to get it to work correctly. If they had driven it one more time as the Silky Wagon people would start getting suspicious. In the back Linna, Nene and Chaz could still be heard laughing at Priss's expense.

Sylia raised her voice above the din. "One of our retainer clients is being robbed by a team in stolen military battle armor. Mackie says the ADP has already arrived on the scene and is engaging them."

"Ah Sylia," Priss complained, "you really didn't need everyone for that. You, Linna and me can take out those with no effort. Heck, even Nene could take one of THESE guys."

Nene ignored the dig, satisfying herself with a pledge to temporarily disable Priss's credit cards when she got the chance.

"True, we don't all need to be here. But my sources tell me that GENOM is definitely after our hides now." She glanced at everyone meaningfully, stopping for a three count on Priss. "That means until things cool down we play it as safe as we can."

Mackie yelled from the front. "They're two blocks East from here. I'll be on the West side in ten minutes." As he said it he pulled the truck to a stop and popped the doors open. Quietly the hardsuited Knight Sabers disembarked. Nene ran point, her ECM covering their arrival. As Mackie pulled away, the Knight Sabers activated their thrusters and flew to the top of the building. Reaching the top they bounded across the building and jumped to the next. Nene and Chaz peeled away and bounced toward the far left corner while Sylia, Linna and Priss moved to stand at the center of the building.

Chaz looked over the edge of the building to the smoke filled street. Below them the merc team was holding off the ADP quite easily. Every time something large appeared one of the robbers would use an arm mounted beam cannon. There were several burning cars and a few bodies lying in their path. What a mess.

Quickly sizing up the situation, Sylia dropped first, her customary command hanging in the air behind her. "Knight Sabers. Go!"

Linna and Priss dropped right behind her leaving Nene and Chaz on the roof as backup.

Eric Gorder was having a bad day. They should have been in and out of this place in minutes. Instead they had gotten caught by an ADP patrol and held up. But ADP wasn't the real problem. If they couldn't get out of here soon USSD would show up to reclaim their armor. Eric stood up from behind the wreck of a car Haya had blasted earlier. The bullets from the ADP whined uselessly off his armor. The flame concealed his movements from the ADP but allowed him to see them clearly. He quickly scanned the opposition. Perfect. There's the cop in charge. Polish him off and there should be enough confusion to let them get away. Ignoring the sounds of violence behind him Eric armed his shoulder missile launcher and aimed at Leon's head.

Chaz was too excited to sit still. He'd been training for a couple of weeks now, waiting for this. Sylia was still having trouble adapting some of the equipment to fit his 'specialized' needs and the generic suit wasn't quite what he wanted. But she had agreed he could hold his own if he had to. Backup in a hard-suit was better than sitting in the truck with Mackie. He'd done that once. Once was enough. Mackie had a complete breakdown of the sensors from all the Knight Sabers. With that setup he kept track of everything and watched out for surprises. The down side was if he saw something all he could do was give a warning. If Chaz had been susceptible to them he would have gotten an ulcer in minutes at that job.

A movement below dragged his attention away from his reverie. One of the armored suits was drawing a bead on Leon. Chaz's eyes quickly sought out the other Knight Sabers. Linna was whittling her opponent's armor away with quick flips of her monowire ribbons. Sylia was systematically turning her opponent's armor into junk with quick shots from her gauss gun. Priss was boxing with her opponent, looking for a place to slam a railgun bolt home where it wouldn't kill the armor's occupant. "Shit," he said succinctly. He focused on the armored suit's shoulder and fired his palm laser. To his spectrum sensitive eyes the beam appeared as a coruscating ray of energy. The core was dazzling with the secondary radiation forming a bluish corona. Everybody else just saw a brief line of sparks where the X-rays made particles in the air vaporize or incandesce. That didn't stop the beam from doing its job. The beam sliced deep into the missile launcher setting off the primed warhead in a satisfactory explosion. With a scream of rage Nene's voice came over the encrypted voice net. ALMOST nobody else could see it, Chaz corrected himself.

"What the hell was that?" The redheaded hacker yelled. "That nearly overloaded my EM detector!"

"Um. . . Me," Chaz explained contritely. "Sorry. That asshole was about to remove the head from our favorite police inspector." He looked back down. The fight was almost over. The one he shot wasn't moving. Probably stunned by the explosion. Linna and Sylia had cut the power systems to their opponents, leaving them largely helpless. Priss seemed to be enjoying dragging it out. She was physically weaker than her opponent, but her speed more than made up for it. With a rapid series of hammer blows, Priss had disabled half of the armor's weapons systems. Slipping under a wild swing, she went to work on the other half. Chaz saw it coming before it happened. "Oh Hell. That's going to sting," he whispered as Mackie gave Priss warning.

Priss ducked under a second wild swing and straight into the suit's up-thrust knee. The blow caught the singer squarely in her helmet and cracked her faceplate. Priss's voice came over the radio. "Shit! I'm blind!" came her voice over the com-link. Chaz raised his arm to protect her, but Nene waved him off pointing to Sylia who had the situation well in hand.

Sylia raised her gauss gun and proceeded to knock the advancing armor on its ass. "Priss, keep your faceplate closed for now. I've got him." Closing rapidly she kept up her fire on the downed armor.

Man, you didn't know when you were well off, Chaz sympathized, as Sylia used precision fire from her gauss gun to quickly cripple the all ready damaged armor. Well, that's that. He looked back at the armor on the ground. It was struggling to get up. Chaz smiled. The ADP K-12 on its back was making it difficult for the suit to move at all, let alone get up. Must be one of the world's most expensive paper weights. Linna and Sylia grabbed Priss around her waist and thrustered up to the opposite side of the street. "We're finished here. Jump over and we'll leave," Sylia called.

Nene nodded and sprang over using her jump system and a brief burst of power from her thrusters. Chaz ran back to the other side of the building and returned going full barrel to build up speed. He jumped at the very lip of building. He got about three-quarters across before he realized he was going to fall short. Damn. Kicking in his flight system, he finished the jump. He'd really been hoping to avoid using it. He landed a little off center on the other side.

Sylia stood there with her hands on her hips. "Still think the jump system is unnecessary?"

Chaz snarled. "I don't care what you say. I'm not going to wear those damned high-heels!" He waved back at the chasm. "Besides, with my 'enhancements' I've got almost the same jump range." If Chaz didn't know better, he would have bet that Sylia's helmet was giving him a skeptical look. Still, she didn't say anything as she walked over to the buildings edge.

Sylia jumped off the other side. "I think you'd look cute in high-heels," she said as she dropped out of sight.

Chaz charged the edge and dropped off. "Sylia! You take that back!" Braking with his suit thrusters Chaz landed neatly on top of the truck. You wait until Mackie's finished. Then we'll see. Mumbling to himself, Chaz closed the door.

Mason sat alone in his office, fuming. Quincy had given him an ultimatum. Finish the Knight Sabers now or be replaced. He was like a dog being sicked on a pest the master couldn't be bothered to deal with. He'd been relieved of the Integrated Technological Unification project. That bitch Madigan had it now. It was almost a sure sign that he was being ousted. If he couldn't at least finish this project. . .What the hell was he going to do? Quincy obviously expected him to take care of the matter himself. The Lazarus project wasn't really ready yet. The designs for the improved body were at least a week from testing and it was getting more and more difficult to hide what he was doing. Flint, over at the research center, had agreed to store the project for now. A head on confrontation with the Knight Sabers! He wanted it so bad he could taste it! But caution was beginning to leak through his wall of confidence. He'd been given authorization to use whatever he needed. But if he failed. . . Mason paused. He had never thought about failure before. It hadn't been an issue. He swore and shook the unfamiliar chill from his mind. Damn it all to hell! Things hadn't really started to go to hell until the Knight Sabers had gotten involved with his USSD project. He'd watched the news last night. The Knight Sabers had added a member. A cameraman had picked out the new orange and white, male hard-suit standing on the building next to the older pink one. Who picked those colors anyway? He waved off the errant thought. The new one would be the weak link. He could at least take him out. That might give him a stay of execution from Quincy. Enough time, perhaps, to finish the Lazarus Project. With that finished he could take on anybody. Mason smiled. All he had to do was kill the newest Knight Saber. He walked to the planning room. It should be easy. After all, he'd been killing for GENOM for years.

Chaz, dressed in his usual T-shirt and jeans, sat in the meeting room. The debriefing was turning out to be taking longer than the fight had. Priss was being reminded that there was no reason for her to go hand to hand like that. If she really wanted a change of battle tactics she'd have to consent to a change of weapons.

"But I like the razor gun!" Priss complained. "It has the most penetrating power of any weapon we have." Not to mention the thing was fun to use. "Besides, what would you recommend as a replacement?" She could at least find out her options. She thought.

Nene leaned over to whisper to Linna. "I think Priss is just gun happy."

Linna stifled a laugh and whispered back. "It's not how big your gun is. It's how you use it."

Chaz hid his grin as best he could. They sometimes forgot that whispering was no good around him. Still, he had to admit that they had Priss pegged. All puns, aside she really did like big guns.

"I was thinking another shaped explosive system like Linna's knuckle bomber," Sylia explained. "Maybe we could move your railgun to the other arm. But that would leave you a little short of power at times."

Chaz smiled. The basic problem was Priss wanted heavy long-range firepower AND heavy close range firepower. The hard-suit's power system apparently couldn't support that. Not for long anyway. A sudden thought struck him. "Why does the Knuckle bomber use power at all Sylia?"

Sylia looked annoyed for a moment. "The knuckle bomber uses a strong magnetic bottle to contain and focus the explosive release into a fine stream of near plasma."

Hmm. . . He decided to chance it. "What about giving Priss an additional power source?" he volunteered. "Than she could keep both the blaster and the railgun."

Sylia looked over at him for a moment before answering. "Chaz, every armor segment IS a power source," Sylia clarified. "They function as flexible batteries." She paused. "Talk to me later and we'll start bringing you up to speed on hard-suit design."

Chastened, Chaz shut up. Just how did those things work anyway? He'd used them a few times. Once in combat and a couple times in training. He still had no idea how they functioned. Black magic probably.

"I think I'll stick with my current weaponry for now Sylia," Priss decided. "If you can get the bomber system a little smaller I wouldn't mind one." She thought about it. "And maybe one on each foot."

"I'll keep that in mind for the upgrades," Sylia assured her.

"What about my weapons Sylia?" Nene asked.

Sylia inclined her head. "Nene you know we can't put much more in your hard-suit. The power drain from your sensors, ECM and ECCM gear is simply to great."

Nene sulked. "That boomer the other night almost took my head off because the machine-gun didn't bother it." The less said about that pathetic excuse for a laser the better.

"I'll see what I can do about it." Sylia sighed. Sometimes it was like teaching grade school. A violent one, true, but a grade school none the less. "Is there anything else?" Silence. Then she heard it. Looking behind her she saw Mackie's head lying on the sofa. The droning noise was coming from his open mouth. "I think that answers that question. I'll see you all Saturday night then." She placed a blanket over her sleeping brother as the rest of the Knight Sabers left. Mackie, sometimes I don't know what I'm going to do with you.

"So what do you want to do now?" Chaz asked Priss. It was too much to hope that she'd want to pickup where they'd left off.

Priss considered it for a moment. "It's a little late for you to ride back to my place with me." She grinned as his face fell. "I guess I'll just have to spend the night here." Her grin got broader as she looked into his eyes. "So. . Want to show me your etchings?" she asked mischievously, putting her arms around his neck.

Chaz grinned. "Sure. In fact I think the one I've got in the bedroom will suit your tastes perfectly. Though you will have to lay on the bed to see it."

Mackie rushed down the stairs. "Chaz! Chaz!" He banged on the door. "Chaz!" He must be sleeping. Opening the door Mackie walked in. He looked around. Let's see. Mess in the kitchen. Empty bottle of wine on the cable spool table. Clothes scattered across the floor. Priss. Ah! There he is. "Chaz!" Mackie walked to the bed.

Chaz opened his eyes and looked at Mackie. Anyone else would have gotten the hint when he hadn't answered the door. He should really think about getting a lock for it. He smiled evilly. I'm not going to deal with this, he decided. Leaning over he nudged Priss. "Wake up hon," he said gently.

Mackie finally noticed what his eyes had been trying to point out to him for several seconds now. With a surge of adrenaline, his survival instincts kicked in. Priss was here! In bed with Chaz! He had to get out of here before she woke up! He turned and promptly tripped on Priss's jeans. Oh Shit! She's going to kill me! he thought as he tumbled to the floor in a quivering heap.

Priss slowly opened her eyes and cuddled closer to Chaz. "Good morning lover," she said in a sleepy bedroom voice. "Up for a morning rematch?" she asked as she rubbed his chest gently.

"I think we slept in Priss." Chaz nodded at the clock.

Priss glanced over at it and did a double take. "That's the time!" Her eyes came wide awake. "I've got a gig today! You Jerk! I'm going to be late for rehearsal!" She stumbled naked out of bed heading for the shower. "Why didn't you wake me?" she demanded irately.

Mackie lay cowering beside the bed. Any minute she's going to find me. Then. . . his mind was fully capable of realizing what the result of his discovery would be. It just preferred not to. Mackie shuddered.

"I didn't know you had a performance today. And you looked too beautiful asleep to wake you," Chaz yelled to the bathroom. Turning from the sight of Priss climbing into the shower, he looked over at quivering boy. "Mackie, I SUGGEST you get out of here before she comes back," he whispered to the cringing teenager.

Mackie concurred. Unwrapping his ankle from the jeans, he shot out the door.

When Mackie had made his exit, Chaz stood up and walked to the shower. "Need someone to wash your back?" he asked as he opened the curtain.

Priss leaned back into the pressure of his fingers. Man! That felt good. "Is Mackie gone?" she asked lightly as he lathered her shoulders.

"You saw him?" he asked as he rubbed his hands down her back. God! Her hair was beautiful when it was wet! The water brought out the highlights and made it look like an auburn river.

"Mmmmmm." She arched her back against his fingers. "A little to the right. . . Thank you. No. I heard him. When he came up to the bed." She grinned. "What you did to him was mean and cruel." She licked her lips. "I liked it." Besides, he deserved it.

Chaz finished washing her back. "I thought it no less than he deserved. Besides," he laughed, "you should have seen his face!" He caught her waist and turned her around to face him. "It was classic." He leaned down to kiss her.

"Mmmm. Hold that thought 'til tonight. Right now I'm late." Priss stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. "You going to come to the show tonight?"

Chaz nodded underneath the running water. "You bet." At least the change hadn't taken the pleasures of life away from him. The hot water felt wonderful. And Priss? Indescribable. "Wouldn't miss it."

"Great! I'll see you there." Priss grabbed up her clothes and hurriedly put them on. "Don't forget!"

Chaz stuck his head out of the shower to look at her as she left. That last line had sounded less like a reminder than like a threat.

"So Mackie," Chaz asked Sylia's brother, "what was so important that you didn't notice Priss?"

"I finished the project you asked me to work on," Mackie said grinning.

"No kidding!" Chaz was amazed. "When did you find the time? I just asked you yesterday!" He started walking briskly towards the hard-suit storage area.

"Not that way," Mackie called. "You think sis would let me work on one of hers?" He shook his head. "This way." Mackie led the way to the hanger. "She almost never comes up here," he explained. "Except for missions." He waved at the back of the large facility to the KnightWings hydraulic lift. "Over there I can tinker to my heart's content. If I could figure out a way to hide it I would have brought my armor outside too. Damn thing's too big." The young teen stopped and grinned at Chaz, "You should see the bike I'm putting together at Professor Raven's." His eyes shone as he talked about his machines. With a magicians flair he waved at what stood on a hard-suit rack, "There she is."

Chaz stood speechless. It was perfect. Just like he'd imagined it would be. The dark blue, almost black, armor plates against the matte-black, flexible, plas-steel jointing was striking. He couldn't wait to try it on.

"Maybe I should amend what I said earlier," Mackie clarified. "The work is almost done. I finished the basic actuation system and the armor plates. I have to wait before I can put in the control system, sensors, and weapons in," the teen explained.

Chaz rubbed his hand over the armor like a lover. "What's the hold up?" He had been willing to wait weeks. But he was impatient now. He had debated about using Sho's suit as a design base. After wrestling with the problem for a couple days he'd decided on the Guyver III armor instead. It looked nastier.

Mackie shrugged. "Well, I actually went looking for you last night. I could have used the help." Mackie's grin underwent a metamorphosis to become a leer. "Now I know why you didn't answer your door." The leer faded as he resumed talking about his first love. "The real holdup is parts. I also have to get custom made virtual view screens for the eye pieces." He nodded at the hard-suit. "The helmet you asked for is too small to accommodate the large ones the rest of the suits use."

"What about just feeding the sensor inputs through my AI?" Chaz asked hesitantly. After his debacle at the debriefing the last thing he needed was to get slapped down again.

Mackie blinked. He'd forgotten again. "You know, for that matter we can strip down the control system too," he said thoughtfully. He was growing excited. This was a lot different from making a hard-suit for a normal person. He loved a challenge and this promised to be a good one. A sudden thought ran through his mind. He smacked his forehead. "I'm going to have to totally rework the actuation system too. It would be a lot more efficient if it added to your own strength instead of just working around it."

Chaz took off his shirt. "Well Sylia said she wanted me to start learning suit design and systems."

Mackie paused in mid thought. "Sis said that?" he asked carefully.

"Yeah. Why?" Chaz was puzzled; he hadn't thought there would be a problem.

Mackie wiped his hands off and stepped up to an intercom. "Sis?" After a moment Sylia answered. Her face appearing in the intercom window.

"Yes Mackie. What is it?" she answered brightly.

"Did you say you wanted Chaz to learn hard-suit design?" He asked the question liked he expected the answer to be no. Briefly, Chaz wondered why.

"Yes I did Mackie. He needs to learn all the basic principles and philosophies except the primary field unit operations." She quieted. "Maybe later we can go into those too." She continued. "For now show him actuation and armor. You can cover sensors and weapons later." She disconnected.

Mackie looked at the intercom for a moment. Then turned around with a puzzled look on his face. "Man! I NEVER though she'd tell dad's secrets to anyone." He looked up at Chaz. "No offense intended. But she never told Professor Raven some of the things she wants me to show you." I wonder why him? He dismissed the thought. Sis ALWAYS knew what she was doing. "All right. We'll start with the basic actuation system."

Two hours later Chaz was even more amazed. "That's how you managed to fit myomers into the same space with a normal human arm?" The hookup had turned out to be very simple. It was the application that was giving him problems.

Mackie sat back and relaxed for a moment. "Yup. If you do it any other way you waste too much space." He pointed at the assembly. "That, the actuation control system and the field sis mentioned are what allow the Knight Sabers to have the best powered armor in the world." He smiled. "Dad figured it would take an arm at least three times as big to do it any other way with the same strength. Using flat motors might do it. But it would eat a hell of a lot more power. It probably gives GENOM fits trying to figure it out."

Chaz nodded. He could see why. "That's why all the other systems seem so large in comparison. I take my hat off to him. Dr. Stingray was a genius and a half."

Mackie stood and started back to work. "Yeah, he was a little naive though. He trusted GENOM until it was too late to stop them. Then came the 'accident'." He grimaced. "I pity the poor guy if sis ever finds out who did it. I'd kill him myself if I could." Mackie shook his head and continued working in silence.

Chaz carefully kept his face neutral. She never told him, Chaz thought. She knows Mason did it and she never told him. Putting the disquieting thought from his mind. Chaz reached up and helped Mackie.

Four hours later they finished. Chaz stood back to look at it. The armor looked the same as when he'd first seen it. Amazing. All the changes we made and it still looks the same. Of course they hadn't changed the armor plate at all, just the interior. "When do you think we'll get a chance to install the subsystems?"

Mackie looked at the armor. "We can probably install the thruster units tomorrow. The rest depends on sis." He turned and started wiping bio-fluid off his hands. "If we could, I'd leave space for your sensors to work directly." He appeared to consider it a moment and then shook his head. "Nah. That's TOO dangerous."

"Why?" Chaz hated to rely on the suit's displays for information if he didn't have to.

Mackie held up a piece of armor. "This battery plate is only about as tough as ordinary steel. Once the diffraction coating goes on, that's about the limit of what we can do to it without sacrificing power."

Chaz nodded. The plas-steel joints were about the same strength. "So why not use real armor?"

Mackie nodded. "Not a bad idea at first. Real armor would allow the suits to take more punishment. But when you start adding on the flight system, sensors, and weapons you quickly run out of available power. A power cell can only hold so much and a generator can't put out the power we need in the space we have available. Plus you lose a lot of mobility." He paused dramatically. "Then there's the field effect. THAT immediately throws all arguments for heavy armor out the window. Open that panel in the small of the back."

Chaz did. The revealed cavity was empty. It had two large connections and a couple sensor leads running into it. The first connection looked, to his admittedly inexperienced eye, like a primary power lead. The second seemed to connect to the lining of the suit with induction points for the soft suits. He frowned at it for a couple seconds before giving up. "Okay. What am I looking at?"

Mackie smiled. "That is where the Knight Sabers Black Box will go."

Chaz stood up and gazed steadily at Mackie. "Pardon teacher. I must have come in late. What the heck is a Black Box and what does it do?" Chaz asked calmly.

"The box that fits in there makes thick armor superfluous." Mackie explained. His voice turned serious. "Now this is between you me and sis." He waited for Chaz's nod before continuing. "Dad discovered the field accidentally while working on a new myomer system for his prototype boomers." He smiled. "Actually, as a myomer it sucks. Nobody's ever figured out why. But when you enclose a volume with the myomer fabric and apply what was intended as the actuation field you get something better." He waited.

Chaz frowned and then lightened up. Okay. I'll play the straight man. "What do you get?" he asked in his best eager student voice.

Mackie's smile got broader. "Loosely speaking an energy damping field." He leaned over to the computer and punched up a couple graphs. "Within a certain range of volume the field works best. Too much or too little and the field power dies off quickly."

Chaz looked at the graph. The peak zone was in the point one to point one seven cubic meter range. "So?"

Mackie nodded. "I said the same thing. What Dad realized is that is almost the same volume a medium sized person takes up." He saw Chaz's confusion. "A medium sized human being will fit in the field."

Comprehension dawned in Chaz. "The field is what allows the battery plates to act as armor."

"Right. In theory we shouldn't need the armor at all. But for a number of reasons it's necessary. Look at the second graph." Mackie pointed to the screen. "See the area marked vulnerable zone." Chaz nodded. "That's why we have the armor. Within that area the field effect is negligible. We had to tune it that way or we wouldn't be able to move in there."

Chaz laughed. "Let me get this straight. A DPU round fired at point blank range won't put a crease in the plate but a knife would slide right through?"

Mackie shook his head. "Almost. The knife would have to be monomolecular or laser energized to pass through the armor. As for the DPU round. Well, it depends. You see the field draws power to fight sudden changes to anything solid within the field. But it can only draw on the power you give it. The hard-suits have a finite power supply. Exceed it and the field breaks down. The attack, whatever it is, gets through with whatever power it has left." He made a throat slitting gesture. "To use your example. If the DPU hit hard enough it would destabilize the field until it could reform. During that time the shell would probably do an incredible amount of damage. That's why we practice not getting hit. The hard-suits can take a lot of punishment. You don't want to take the shot that they can't. The other down side is that you CAN'T put a large person inside the field. Men are almost always too big. As it is you skate the thinning edge of the field."

Comprehension dawned. THAT was why Sylia had designed the hardsuits for women. Space conservation. Women tended to be smaller. Chaz nodded judiciously. "Okay. So what's dangerous?"

Mackie shrugged. "What you've been taught. Relatively heavy, slow moving objects. Boomer kicks and punches scrape the bottom of the effect and no matter what the attack there's ALWAYS some bleed through. The field isn't instantaneous and it ignores all the energy up to the top of the danger zone. In theory force beams could unbalance the field too."

Chaz thought about it. "In theory?"

"No one's has come up with one yet to test it." Mackie shrugged. "A long fall will hurt. A short fall could hurt just as much. It's the paradox of the system."

Chaz nodded absently, he was beginning to understand.

Mackie's eyes snaked to the clock on the wall. Suppressing a grin, he changed the subject. "When's Priss's concert anyway?" he asked innocently.

Chaz checked the time. "Oh Hell!" he exclaimed. Dropping the rag he'd been using, he was across the sub-garage before it finished falling.

Mackie reached down and picked up the discarded rag. With a whistle he went back to work. What goes around comes around Chaz, he thought with a grin.

Chaz raced to the ground floor garage. Where's the car? Priss started in ten minutes! If he wasn't there she'd kill him. He paused. No, she'd think of something worse. Inside, his AI took his frantic thoughts as a signal to start a count down. 8:48 it chimed dutifully. Great. The Kats nightclub was 9.65 kilometers from here. His top speed was higher than that, but he'd have the ADP firing on him before he made it there. He could see the map in his minds eye. Unless . . . he made an adjustment to his mental map. 6.5 kilometers not phenomenal, but doable. If he were caught it would be tough to explain. However, it would be easier than telling Priss why he had missed her concert. He grabbed his coat and ran out the door.

Priss jerked the stage curtain open and peered at the crowd. Where is he? Priss could feel her anger growing as she looked out from behind the dark blue fabric. Letting the curtain close she stormed back to her bench. Her hands tightened around the neck of her guitar. He knows I start performing at eight. "He'll be here," a part of mind said. "He had BETTER be," another part answered.

Chaz looked down into the abyss before him. This may not be such a great idea. He looked across the canyon. Kats was on the other side. If ran around he'd be late. He looked down. Only 32.4 meters, his range finder told him. Could be worse. In some of the places the rift ran up to 50 meters deep. 06:20 came the chime from the AI. Great. At least he'd spotted a good landing zone. Running to build up speed, he jumped off the edge. This is going to hurt, he thought briefly as his feet left the ground.

Priss finished tuning her guitar for the third time. She looked around. The other band members were waiting on her. I'm going to kill him. She looked again at the crowd; still no Chaz. She sighed and amended the thought. Painfully. Waving to her band mates, she walked out on stage.

01:03 the AI chimed. Just a little more. Chaz was looking much less than his best. His pants and coat had gotten ripped when he'd jumped the razorwire fence. The mud puddle next to the pond he'd landed in had added to the decor. The less said about the numerous small knife cuts and holes the better. He was not in a good mood. He rounded the corner. Great! No line to get in. Chaz whipped out his slightly muddy wallet as he ran. Cover, 2000 Yen. No problem. He pulled up to a halt at the door. The huge bouncer calmly looked him up and down. His eyes took in every detail of Chaz's attire.

"Ya can't come in," The bouncer finally announced.

Behind the bouncer Chaz saw Priss walking out on stage. '00:20,' the AI chimed.

"Why not?" Chaz asked as reasonably as he could.

The bouncer smirked. "No gaijin allowed tonight."

00:00. Chaz's eyes turned cold. "Wrong answer."

Priss heard a disturbance by the door. There he is! Just in time to save his neck! With a nod to her drummer Priss started her first set of the night. She looked closer as he ordered a drink. He looked like Hell! Had he been in an accident? She thought about it for a second. A smile broke across her face. I hope he made sure the other guy was okay. With that thought she turned her mind fully to her music.

"Fabulous Priss!" Chaz enthused as he pushed a drink towards her. "Just about the best I've ever seen!"

Priss took the drink and downed half. "Who's better?" she asked mildly.

Chaz shrugged. "No one I've heard in this century." He grinned. "Vision is pretty good though." Priss's face showed what she thought of THAT sentiment. He laughed at her sour expression.

Priss decided to ignore the ribbing, this time. "What happened to you?"

Chaz looked down at himself. "You mean torn clothing splattered with mud isn't in anymore? Damn! Now I'm going to have to change my whole wardrobe." He grinned impudently.

Priss wasn't buying any. "You look like you lost three rounds of five with a boomer! What the hell happened?"

Chaz pitched his voice so only Priss could hear. "Let's see. I ran from Sylia's to the canyon. Then, I jumped down into the canyon and landed in a small pool of water." He took a drag on his beer. "After that I had to run through a small muddy bog. When I reached the other side, I climbed to the top of the canyon. Where the local gang requesting 'contributions' met me. I reasoned that they weren't bad boys and let them off with a couple broken ribs each. I was running down the street when a drunk driver swerved and clipped me, knocking me through the door of a second car. Incidentally, if anyone asks I was nowhere near there." He'd left the driver in his car after he'd flipped it over. "Leaving that behind me I was forced to deal with the bouncer when I got here."

"Harry? What did Harry do?" Priss asked.

Chaz shrugged. "Tried to tell me gaijin weren't allowed. I didn't hurt him . . . much."

Priss sighed. "He meant it as a joke Chaz. No bar in Tokyo could make any money if they did that anymore. What did you do to him?" She closed her eyes. This couldn't get any worse.

"I gave him a rather interesting 2000 Yen wedgie," Chaz answered calmly.

Yes, it could. Priss looked up. "Chaz, I want you to apologize and explain to him before you leave tonight. Harry's a friend of mine."

Chaz finished his beer. "Sure. If I'd known he was joking, I wouldn't have done it. I still remember the way I was treated the last time I was in Japan that's all." He waved over his shoulder for the waitress. "You want another, Priss?"

Priss looked at the table. There were at least ten bottles sitting there not including hers. "You drank those in the past hour?"

"Yep. The alcohol and sugar are helping to recharge my energy stores. I really should eat something soon though." He shrugged. He wasn't really in danger of running out of power from that run, but he liked to keep it topped off.

Priss grabbed the remains of his shirt. "Well be a little more subtle about it." She looked carefully at him. No red in his eyes. No blurring of his voice. Heck! His breath was still sweet. "You aren't even feeling those are you?" she accused.

His face screwed up in a grimace. "Nope. And I'm finding out that without the alcohol beer really isn't worth drinking." He turned to the waitress stepping up behind him. "Yes, I'd like two Long-Island Iced Teas please. And could you please clear the bottles?" He smiled at the startled woman

When the waitress left. Priss leaned across the table. "Alcohol doesn't affect you at all?"

Chaz gave her a helpless look. "Why should it? It doesn't get anywhere near my brain and wouldn't affect it much if it did." He could act drunk if she wanted but what was the point?

Priss thought about that for a moment and then returned a grin that would have done Jack Nicholson proud. "The manager has a running bet. Once a night someone can challenge him to a drinking contest. Loser pays for the drinks. He's never lost."

Chaz thought about it then returned the grin. "He will tonight."

With her arm draped across his shoulder, Chaz helped Priss into her place. "Didja see hiss fashe," she slurred. Priss, he was discovering, was not a pretty drunk. After her final set Priss had settled in next to him in a side booth. She'd been right, Harry had been joking. After a giving Chaz a little ribbing Harry had decided he liked the 'scathing little guy.' Chaz had decided to take it as a compliment. He had also decided to take up Priss's challenge. The manager had really never had a chance. After Chaz had finished two bottles of Maker's Mark the manager had given up in a rather spectacular manner. Chaz felt kind of bad about that. Priss had said he'd deserved it. The evening had gone downhill from there. Priss had decided that since Chaz couldn't get drunk he was her designated driver. She than proceeded to get blitzed. Chaz had decided it was time to leave right after Priss had told her drummer that her new boyfriend was a sexaroid. The modern equivalent of the 'sex toy' joke. The drummer had laughed and Priss had laughed. Chaz had tried to chuckle. The ride home had been kind of interesting. Priss had called him boring when he said he didn't want to go piss on GENOM tower. All in all a very enlightening evening.

Chaz closed the door behind them. The bike was safe. Anyone trying anything tonight would find out he was a better alarm then anything installed could ever be, he grinned, and MUCH nastier.

Priss was half-asleep when he took her clothes off and put her under the cold shower to wash the smell of smoke off. There were benefits to being a boomer, Chaz decided. A human's ears would have been broken by that scream or their body severely wounded when she started flailing around.

Drying the last of the water from her still sleepily cursing body Chaz pulled up the coverlet and told his AI to wake him up at seven. He closed his eyes.

Priss woke up. And immediately regretted doing so. Had a boomer trashed her again? No. Even after that she usually didn't feel THIS bad. What had she done last night? Oh god. She'd gotten drunk again. Fighting her body every millimeter of the way, she pried open an eye. The world spun for a second and took form. Her place. So far so good. She reached out. Nobody in bed with her. Good or bad? Probably good. On the other hand, the smell wafting through the room was definitely good. COFFEE. Smelled like the real thing too. She carefully turned her head to avoid a spin that would splatter her brains against the wall. Somebody in a black T-shirt and jeans. Please. . .God. . .Not. . .Leon. Could she speak without causing her head to explode? Maybe. "Good Morning," she said with all the volume of a baby mouse having a bad dream.

Chaz turned from his cooking. He'd known she was awake since before she'd opened her eyes. You couldn't have missed the change in breathing. Priss snored. "Good morning Priss. Feel up for some breakfast?"

Priss scrambled from the bed and immediately headed for the bathroom. After the traditional Morning Prayer to the porcelain party god she stumbled back into the room. "You bastard," she attempted to snarl. The sound came out like a kitten's cry. A substantial step up from a few minutes ago.

Chaz smiled unrepentantly. "Nope. My parents were most definitely married. Besides you needed to do that." He waved the pot of caffinated fluid. "How about some coffee?"

"Quickly." She sat heavily on the floor next to the low table. The world was out to get her this morning she was sure of it. But she had a plan to outwit it. As soon as she had the ability, she was going to die. It would just take more energy than she had at the moment.

Chaz poured her a cup and sat down with his hot chocolate. After a few minutes he spoke. "How often do you do that?" he asked, carefully keeping his tone neutral.

Priss attempted a glare. It kind of sputtered. She gave it up as a bad job. "Not often. It depends on the stress I'm under. The past couple weeks have been a little hectic. I didn't mean to have THAT much fun though." She held her head. "I can't remember much of last night. What I do remember isn't pretty." She thought about it. "Please tell me I didn't get drunk before I finished my last set."

"You didn't. It was pretty close though. You'd had enough to keep you a little buzzed while you were on stage but you didn't miss a note or slur a syllable," Chaz assured her.

Priss let her head slip to the table in relief. "Great. At least my professional reputation is still secured." If she got a reputation as a drunk along with her Knight Sabers absences she'd NEVER get a gig. She breathed deeply to steady the throbbing in her head. "All right I'm ready. What did I do?"

Chaz gave her the highlights. "Oh. I almost forgot. There was a suit that came by earlier looking for you." He paused. "He said you still owed him money on your bike. I didn't hurt him. I didn't let him have the bike either." He paused. "Priss, he wasn't lying. I thought you owned that bike outright."

Priss shrugged. "I did. I borrowed some money against it to keep the band going. I was planning on using the money from that USSD job to pay it back." She shrugged. "You know how that turned out. The money from our gigs wasn't enough to pay off the instruments."

"So you paid them off using your bike as collateral," Chaz finished. "What about the money from our more recent jobs?" He had the feeling he knew.

"Just covered my bills. Unlike the rest of them, I'm not rich and I don't have a steady job." She turned away. "This is a company town. I pissed off GENOM before I even met Sylia. All I want to do is sing. I'm not much good at anything else legitimate."

Chaz moved to put his arm around her.

Priss moved away. "I don't want sympathy." She looked up eyes flashing. "What I'd kill for is a REAL chance at singing professionally."

Chaz's blood ran cold. He was pretty sure she'd meant it PRECISELY the way she'd said it. Another thought ran through his head. He knew someone who could give her what she wanted. But Priss wouldn't accept it as a gift. Her pride wouldn't let her do less than earn it. Maybe...

Priss looked up at Chaz, as he appeared lost in thought. How in the hell did I wind up with someone like him anyway? He was great in the sack and gave one of the best massages she'd ever had. But aside from that, he was everything her friends normally weren't. Too serious, quiet, rock-steady, semi-honest, smart . . . She shook her head, stopping quickly when it began to feel like it was going to detach itself. His normal face wasn't that handsome either. Oh, sure he could beat out anybody if he tried. But usually he didn't. Even when he knew it might get him in trouble, he kept his 'original' face. It wasn't the body either. He'd told her he'd never used the neural stimulator on her above the minimum constant setting. She'd gotten desensitized to the pheromones too. So what was it? She let it go for now. "How about that breakfast?"

Chaz walked down to Mackie's garage. Oddly timbered music was coming from back by the new hard-suit set up. Right where I thought he'd be, he confirmed. Walking quietly up behind Mackie, he looked over the teen's shoulder. I might have known. Mackie was running test patterns on the thrusters. The control signal was coming from a modified audio hookup. The result was that Mackie had a stereo system made out of thrusters. Chaz reached out and changed the gain on the signal.

Mackie was reaching out to turn off the amplifier when the sound died away. What the hell? He checked. Power's good. Signal's good. The amp. . was turned down. He looked around. Nobody. He turned back to the testing rack.

Chaz watched from the ceiling as Mackie spun around looking for someone. Any second now. Yup. Mackie was sitting nervously back down. Now. Chaz let go of the rebar he'd been holding and dropped behind Mackie, tapping the nervous teen on the shoulder as he landed. The effect was all he could have hoped for. Up to a point.

Mackie felt the tap on his shoulder and yelped. Grabbing the microdriver from the bench he spun and tried to slam it into Chaz's ribcage. With a blur of motion Chaz's hand intercepted the bit. Mackie let go of the driver and Chaz casually pulled the drilling bit out of his hand. Mackie started to stammer out an apology.

Chaz waved it off. "My fault. When you pull THAT sort of shit you have to be prepared for THAT sort of reaction." He inspected the skin on his hand. Good it seemed to be healing already. "I'm just glad it wasn't Linna or Priss. They wouldn't have been able to stop you. I hadn't expected that violent a reaction." He looked down at Mackie with respect. "You are FAST."

Mackie looked up to meet his gaze. "You think so?" he asked tentatively.

"Yeah. Real fast." Too fast. Linna didn't move like that. "Have you ever tested with the others?" He guessed the answer would be no.

Mackie shook his head. "Sis doesn't like me getting involved in that end of things." He shrugged helplessly. He was used to his overly protective sister.

Sylia. Now things were beginning to make sense. The only person Chaz knew beside himself with reflexes like that was Sylia. Dr. Stingray had, apparently, been a very good scientist. He ALWAYS had a backup plan. "Figures. Well let's forget about it for now. How about we install those thrusters?"

Installing and balancing the thrusters took the better part of three hours. When they were done Chaz stood back and looked at the hard-suit. "Why don't boomers use thrusters instead of those fuel-cell ram-jets?" he asked Mackie.

"Cost mainly." Mackie looked up from a calibration unit. "Those thrusters have to be built by a nano-tank. The tanks cost tens of trillions of Yen." He shrugged. "Ours are ordered from GENAROS through a complicated network. The same holds true for the Knight Sabers Black Box, except those we make ourselves. We only have a very small nano-tank." He held his hands up to indicate a small square box. "It's full time job is producing KSBB systems and thruster units. The KSBBs are tougher than the thruster units so we don't have to worry about them as much. The thrusters have to be replaced every time they take a major hit, even a micro-fracture in the substrate makes them useless." He turned back to the hard-suit rack. "If we had a full-sized system we wouldn't need to build these things by hand. Hell, they would be at LEAST twice as good."

Tens of trillions. Chaz had a hard time working with numbers like that. That Sylia had one at all was amazing. She must have traded her soul for it. "So why doesn't GENOM use them? If they're so good, I would think they would have several whatever the cost."

Mackie, still working, nodded. "They do. Trouble is nano-tanks are slow and DANGEROUS. If you try to speed them up they have heat and programming problems. So what you do is use the tanks to make the parts that HAVE to be made that way and build the rest the old fashioned way." He waved at the work in progress. "If I had to take a guess I would bet that a few of your systems were grown in a tank. Certainly the fusion plant and AI were and probably the X-ray lasers." He looked back. "Your body, in terms of construction costs, is probably worth more than all four Knight Sabers hard suits put together." He grinned. "If they had made all of it in a tank you might be able to kill a BU-12 without a hardsuit. The nanite repair system in your body is VERY primitive compared to what COULD be done. You should have seen the monster they had to face at Aqua-City. If that thing hadn't been taken out by the orbital lasers. ." He shuddered. "That sort of system is supposed to be outlawed. Luckily, the control interface is extremely vulnerable."

Chaz finished the adjustment to the hard-suit's actuator. "How large could that thing have gotten?" he asked as he ran a test current through the myomer.

Mackie started closing access panels to keep dust out. "It got larger than it should have been able to. It must have tapped into a power-line somewhere. It also was beginning to have some heat problems towards the end. So at that speed, depending on available power, maybe twice that size before meltdown. It would need several more Class-A boomer brains to be able to effectively control much more material. Luckily there weren't any at the site. THAT'S why nano-tanks are supposed to be kept in space. It's SAFER." He stood up after closing the last panel. "Now all we have to do is get the sensors and control systems from sis." He looked up at Chaz. "I hope you realize how slim your chances of doing that are." Sylia hated redesigning the suits and she wouldn't be happy with their new design until she'd checked every inch of the plans.

Chaz nodded. He hadn't intended on asking her. "Yeah. I know." He leaned his head towards the computer. "Can you give me a list of the components I'll need?" There MIGHT be another source for some of this and Nene could help with the programming.

Mackie gave him a sidelong look and let it go. "Sure." He grinned. "Going to try to get your arguments ready?" Fat Chance. Sis was almost impossible to argue with.

Chaz nodded. "Something like that." He grinned enigmatically.

Nene was excited. Friday was finally here! She had her brand new dress in her locker. All she had do after work was shower and change. Linna and Priss had helped her pick it out. Nene giggled to herself. She'd even bought the lingerie for it from Sylia's. From Mackie no less! She hadn't decided on whether he was going to see it or not. But still, the thought was thrilling! She looked up. Only two more hours!

Mackie stood in the garage, still reworking Chaz's suit. The actuators just didn't want to respond to the test system. He knew there was a broken linkage somewhere. Ah! There it is! Reaching in his hand found the connection and reattached it. There, now to retest it. He reached out to type the command.

Chaz's AI brought the time to his notice. Oh Yeah! He moved his hand to block Mackie's. "Time to break off for the day." He pushed the power on the test actuation system, and it shut down with an audible hum.

"Why?" Mackie asked. It was still early. If they worked through the night they might be able to get through the entire test cycle.

Chaz picked Mackie up and slung him over his shoulder. "Hate to do this. But if you've forgotten your date with Nene you have become FAR too wrapped up in that equipment." Ignoring Mackie's complaints about lost dignity, he walked upstairs.

Sylia was working in her office as a complaining Mackie was carried by. She looked up briefly into his pleading eyes. What's he done now? Shaking her head, she returned to her work. The profit margin from the lingerie chain was going to be slim this year. Maybe the engineering research company would do better. She hadn't received their books yet.

Chaz dumped Mackie in the bathroom. "Get showered, shampooed and shaved and out in five minutes or I'll come in after you." The door slammed shut.

Four minutes fifty seconds later Mackie came out wearing a towel. Chaz was finishing laying out his clothes.

"You WILL wear these," he said, pointing at the clothing.

Mackie looked. What was wrong with slacks and a shirt? Black suit pants? A French buttoned white shirt? Mackie frowned. He was pretty sure he didn't own clothes like this. "Where did you get this stuff?"

"Linna, Priss and I picked it out," Chaz replied. Well, Linna and Priss did anyway. He had the clothes sense and style of a dyslexic mule. Every outfit he owned had been bought under the supervising eye of one of his fellow female Knight Sabers. "Now put it on or you're going to be late." He looked Mackie in the eye. "And if you think I can be scary, try to IMAGINE how scary Nene would be if you didn't pick her up on time."

Mackie gulped. He'd seen Priss and Linna angry. The idea of that kind of fury being directed at him was not attractive. He hastily donned the clothes. When he was finished dressing, Chaz handed him a bouquet of roses and a small box of chocolates.

He gestured at the chocolates. "These are for her. If she offers one to you, bite it in half and put the other half in her mouth." Not that she's likely to offer the little hacker was a chocolate fiend. He placed a set of keys in Mackie's hand. "Linna rented a car for you. Wreck it and you deal with her."

Mackie was becoming overwhelmed. At least his sister hadn't been in on this! He grabbed the keys. "You have money I presume?" Came a familiar voice from behind. No not her too?

Chaz and Mackie turned around. Sylia stood there counting out bills. "Here, that should cover you for the night. I'll deduct it from your store wages." She stood next to Chaz and surveyed her brother critically. "What do you think?" she asked the grinning boomer.

Chaz gave a feral grin, growing hair across his face to complete the effect. "I think he MIGHT survive." Sylia elbowed his ribs. His face returned to normal. "Make sure she has a good time Mackie," came the more realistic advice. Mackie nodded and turned to go.

Sylia spoke up. "Mackie, you have a good time too." Mackie nodded again and left.

Chaz sat down on the sofa. "I feel like I've just sent a lamb off to the slaughter."

Sylia joined him. "Nene's not that bad. I'm sure he'll do fine." She turned to Chaz. "What about you? What are you doing this evening?"

Chaz looked downcast. "Not much. Priss is doing a gig on the other side of Tokyo tonight." He shrugged. "I had to make sure the boy wonder made it out on time." By the time he made it across town at this time of night, the concert would be over. Besides, with Priss, Nene and Mackie gone only he, Sylia and Linna were available if an emergency came up.

Sylia stood up. "Well then, you are welcome to have dinner with me." She smiled. "I'm cooking."

Chaz looked around Sylia's apartment with interest. There was something desperately wrong with this picture. Despite living in Knight Saber headquarters he'd never been in Sylia's private apartment before. He didn't know anyone but Mackie who had. It was pretty much what he'd seen in the anime. A few frills. But there was a feeling of almost . . . sterility he supposed. Sylia's cheerfulness seemed at odds with the whole room. It just didn't have the feeling of a room that was lived in. More like a very expensive hotel.

He looked over where his hostess was slowly mixing something on the stove. Then there was Sylia. Her attitude had started changing almost from the day he joined the Knight Sabers. At first she had seemed a little tepid, reserved. She had been almost as restrained as he had been in high school. Mentally he slapped himself. Give the woman a break, Chaz. She has almost single-handedly kept the worst of GENOM's excesses under control. The kind of determination to do that would make anyone seem a little cold. Sylia looked up from what she was doing for a moment and smiled. So why the change? Priss, Linna, Nene and even Mackie had said that she wasn't acting like normal. WHY? She likes me but she cares for everybody in the Knight Sabers. She DOESN'T love me. Even to me that's obvious. He shrugged. Trying to figure out what was going on in a mind as intelligent as Sylia's was like a monkey trying to figure out a computer. You get glimmers but that's about it.

Sylia came out of the kitchen. At some point she'd managed to change clothes. She was now dressed in a light tan pair of pants and a light blue silk top. Sylia waved at the served meal. "Bon Appetit. I especially recommend the sautéed beef." She seated herself on the opposite side of the table. "Wine?" She waved at the unopened bottle and frowned.

Chaz picked up the bottle. With a quick flick of his wrist he extended the vibro-wire claws and removed the top, cork and all. "Ladies first." He carefully poured her a glass. Reaching over, Sylia took the bottle and returned the favor.

"What shall we drink to?" Sylia smiled and raised her glass for a toast.

Chaz didn't return the smile. "How about honesty?"

The smile left Sylia's face, leaving no trace behind. "What do you mean by that?" Her voice wasn't so much cold, as it was devoid of emotion.

Chaz sipped at the wine as he tried to phrase what he needed to say diplomatically. "Sylia, you haven't got a domestic bone in your body." He waved at the dinner. "It's not that I don't appreciate the meal." He smiled and looked gently at her face. "Or the company." He shrugged. "You've only used that kitchen once or twice since it was put in. I can still smell the coating on the ceramic heating elements." He waved at the stove. "I also heard you opening your utensil drawers." He paused. "Other than what was necessary to make this," he gestured at the table, "you only had silverware. So what I mean is," his voice quieted, and he looked deep into her eyes, "why did you plan all this?"

Sylia was quiet for a long time. She nodded to herself. "I underestimated you. I'm not used to making mistakes like that." She paused as if adjusting a file somewhere. "I'm not likely to do it again." She sipped her wine. "You're right. I planned this. Not necessarily tonight, but some night you would be left here alone with me. Then I would cook this little meal and you and I would talk." She shrugged. "I had hoped to lead into things a little more gradually. You have been adjusting to your senses much quicker than I thought or the details wouldn't have been missing."

Chaz sipped his wine and nodded. "So what did you want to talk about?" He picked up his fork and started eating. Sylia stared at his hand. Chaz looked down. Nothing special. "What?"

"You used to be RIGHT handed. When. . ." She let the question hang.

Chaz shrugged. "Just now. I picked it up without thinking about it. It feels as natural as my right."

Sylia's head came down to her hand. "I really should have kept a closer eye on your progress. THAT would have tipped me off," she said disgustedly.

"Don't think I haven't noticed that you avoided the question." Chaz took a sip of wine. "The dinner is excellent by the way. You should try some."

Sylia reached down with her fork and began eating. "Why do you think I've asked you to dinner?" she asked cautiously.

Chaz smiled. "At first I flattered myself that you were interested in me."

Sylia choked.

Ignoring her discomposure he continued, "The more I thought about it the less likely that seemed." He raised his glass and watched the patterns the wine and candlelight made. "I'm not terribly handsome. My pheromones probably don't have much effect on you. And you consciously avoid my touch." Sylia flinched. She probably hadn't thought he'd noticed. "So I know that you're avoiding the neural stimulator. It's not my mind. I'm pretty intelligent but not in your class." He smiled depreciatedly. "I'm also the proud owner of one of the most abrasive personalities known to man." He shrugged. "With that out of the way, I have NO idea why you wanted to talk to me."

Sylia finished her glass of wine. "True. I don't have much romantic interest in you. As for your personality," she shrugged, "I put up with a lot worse from Priss. Yours isn't as bad as you think." She paused to finish the last of her meal. "What does interest me is your mind." She waved off his objections. "Yes I know. You aren't as intelligent as me or, for that matter, Mackie." Her blue eyes blazed into his. "But you are far more intelligent than you let on. You are also one of the few 'enhanced' people on this earth. Father's nanites have never, to my knowledge, been recreated. After he tested them he destroyed the designs and the information needed to make more. I think GENOM had enough to 'enhance' maybe four." She paused. "At least one of them went mad from the process. It was never supposed to be used on an adult."

Chaz thought about that. "So, how do you explain me?" Chaz asked quietly.

Sylia poured herself some more wine. "I can't. I think Mason is one of father's successes. The original nanites wouldn't have moved your neurons anywhere. They would have altered the cells in your brain gradually. I think Mason didn't want to wait. He wanted to see if nanite changed cells could be moved into an android body without killing them. So he used the guinea pig that was available."

"Me," Chaz whispered. The experiment. It all made sense now. Mason was to become Largo after all. He wanted to make sure at least one of his two processes worked first. In the back of his mind a memory surfaced. For the first time he could understand the conversation that had changed his life. "The doctor in charge said that he recommended engram replication instead of the nanite transfer because it caused less personality change."

Sylia sipped her wine before answering. "At first, that's true. The engram can be error checked the nanites couldn't. But because the original brain isn't being used, after a few months the personality warps to fit the new brain." She shook her head. "It seems to almost invariably cause insanity. With nanite transfer the brain changes a little at first, which disrupts the personality in the short term. But in the long term, if the person can come to grips with the change, the engram will adjust." She looked up from his face to his eyes. "Yours isn't likely to collapse. But it's still trying to get back to normal though. Your natural glandular systems weren't moved with your brain." She sighed and leaned back in her chair. "Which is why we're having this conversation." She got up from the table and gestured towards the sitting area.

Chaz sat down opposite her, the coffee table between them. "What did you mean my personality is still adjusting? I feel fine." Despite his easy words he was VERY worried. If you aren't your personality what were you? If that changed didn't you?

"Just what I said. While your brain adjusts to the virtual glandular system the neurophages use, you'll tend to be more emotional and more impulsive than you used to be. After you adjust you should be pretty much the same person that you were before the change. It's the emotionality that causes most to lose their sanity." She paused. "When we first found out, do you remember how you reacted?"

He winced at the recollection. "Sure. How could I forget? I was crying all over the place." It had taken him a week just to get over the INITIAL reaction.

"Did you react like that to extreme stress before?" Sylia asked pointedly.

Chaz's head drooped a little as he thought about it. "No. No, I didn't." He usually bottled up pain like that and dealt with it later. He also usually didn't go out with women like Priss either. The thought was not a happy one.

Sylia reached out and poured herself another glass. "That acceptance is probably what kept you sane. If you'd fought it or denied it . . ." She didn't finish. She didn't have to.

Chaz swallowed the last of his wine and reached for the bottle. "So now what do we do? If I go back to the way I was before I wouldn't be much use to the Knight Sabers. Not to mention what it will do to my relationship with Priss." Chaz sighed. Things never seemed to get easier.

Sylia reached a hand out a little awkwardly to pat his. "Everybody changes. I think at the very worst you and Priss will still remain friends. But we strayed a bit. I wanted to talk to you about the Knight Sabers."

Chaz tried to relax and put his personal life on the back burner. Sylia made it look so easy. "What about it?" This was going to be interesting.

Sylia walked to the refrigerator and brought back a new bottle. Chaz opened it as easily as the first. "You know." He said conversationally. "That stuff has no effect on me. So if you're trying to get me drunk so you can have your way with me..."

For the second time that evening Sylia choked on her wine. When she could breathe again she glared at him. "I'm beginning to think you time those statements to do that on purpose."

Chaz smiled. "You'll never be able to prove it."

Sylia raised an eyebrow. "Never?" She laughed at his expression. "Mackie probably told you that a lot of what he's showing you hasn't been shown to anyone else." Chaz nodded. "Have you wondered why I'd trust you?"

Chaz nodded. "Yeah. Actually I have. You haven't known me very long. I would have thought you'd tell Professor Raven first."

Sylia inclined her head. "And what would happen if GENOM or some other organization got hold of him?" she asked in a quiet voice.

Chaz was very quiet as he thought about the implications of that question. Finally, in a whisper, he answered, "They would wring him dry. With enough drugs they could get him to tell everything." The light was beginning to dawn. "You and Mackie?"

Sylia didn't look up. "Not against our wills. Our pain threshold is higher than the amount our brains can withstand. Mind altering drugs produce a mild reaction at best. To really try to force us would destroy what anyone was looking for. We were the only ones I could trust to protect the information." She shrugged.

Chaz could see where this was leading. "But I can't be forced either; tricked maybe, coerced possibly, but not forced. THAT'S why you're trusting me."

Sylia nodded. "You can even let a program develop to keep you from doing it accidentally. Your AI would protect it even if someone tried to coerce you. Even Mackie and I can't do that." Her voice sounded deep and sad. "That's why Mackie's never allowed to go directly into a mission." Sylia explained. "I know I can't be forced or tricked. I can shut down my mind first. Mackie isn't old enough yet to have that much control. He could be tricked." She shrugged. "Maybe even coerced."

Chaz was amazed. No wonder she seemed so cold. If anyone got their hands on that technology and mass produced it. . . He shuddered. On a large scale nothing could stop it. "So why do you think you can trust me?" he asked gently.

Sylia looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "Because I'm running out of choices. If I really want to keep GENOM in check I have to start spreading the knowledge somewhat. I've already given the idea for a second-generation boomer AI to a friend of my father's. It doesn't use the same biological pattern as GENOM's and thus doesn't fall under their patents. He should be able to fully develop it within a couple years."

"Dr. Haines," Chaz whispered.

Sylia was startled for a moment. "I tend to forget the future is an open book to you. It's so irrational my mind tries not to deal with it." She finished her wine and poured another. Her voice went very quiet. "I'm also getting tired of shouldering the burden alone." Her hands shook as she poured. "The worst part is: all I've managed to do is slow them down. I can't really stop them. Too much of the world depends on the GENOM Corporation. Getting rid of them would destroy too much of the world economy at this point." A single tear ran down her nose and splashed into her wine.

Chaz reached over gently pulled her wine away. "What do you want me to do Sylia?" he asked as softly as he could.

Sylia reached deep to get a stranglehold on her emotions. With one big sniff she once again seemed in complete control. The only trace was the single tear track away from her eye. "I want you to memorize everything; all of it. Memorize every detail of father's and my work. I'm going to erase it from the computer. The only copies will be in my, yours and Mackie's heads.

"What about the nanite tank?" That had to have the plans for at least the KSBB in it.

Sylia shook her head. "That's rigged to self-destruct if anyone tampers with it. Even Nene couldn't break the coding that locks it." She stood up and moved around to sit next to him.

Chaz cautiously turned to face her. "After I get through memorizing, then what?"

"If I die you step in to fill the gap," Sylia said as if the first part didn't matter. "That gives us a larger measure of security. With your connections to the Hou Bang you could continue where I left off." He didn't know whom she was trying to convince, herself or him. She moved closer. "Just..." Her eyes began to fill again.

Chaz looked into her deep blue yes. "Just?"

Sylia hugged his shoulder. "Keep Mackie safe!" With those words Sylia Stingray, the leader of the Knight Sabers, began to cry. She cried for a long time, the sobs of a strong will that has held back emotion for a very long time and has at last relaxed. She clung to him as a shipwrecked sailor clings to a plank to keep from going under. Chaz enfolded her gently, his arms providing what little shield he could give her from the world. He comforted her as she sobbed for her father, her mother, her brother and herself. He held her until she finally fell asleep. Lifting her easily, he bore her to bed and pulled the covers over her. He looked down at her. He knew tomorrow all the old shields would be back in place. But she would know. She wasn't alone anymore. He kissed her gently on the forehead and left, blowing out the candles as he went.

Chaz sat in his room playing with his computer. Damn! Shutting down the computer he got up and began to pace. He couldn't seem to find anything to do. Well, not anything that would hold his attention anyway. A sudden thought raced through his mind. Why not? Chaz walked downstairs to the hard-suit storage area and took down his suit. Usually it would require a machine to do it. Each one weighed quite a bit and was awkward as hell. Not a problem for him though. Moving it to a workstation he studied it. Sylia may be a genius, but. . . Gaah. . . The orange and white color scheme had to go. The hard-suit had been hastily worked up from stock components. Sylia said that she would design him a personal one when she had the time. Chaz shrugged. This one would do. He grinned. But the one in the hanger would do better. Taking down tools, Chaz set to work.

Mackie stumbled into the building. He wore a beatific grin on his face. Gods! What a night! Everything had gone perfectly. Everything. The dinner had been good and the movie excellent. He and Nene had danced until the disco closed. He'd even kissed her. He'd chickened out at the last minute though. When she'd asked him in for a drink he'd declined. She'd nodded and gave him a kiss that blew his mind. Still reeling, he'd driven home, her last words still repeating in his mind. 'Maybe next time.' He could still see her impish grin as she walked inside. He sighed. Wonder what time it is?

Chaz looked up from his work. Mackie had just passed him on the way to his bed cubby. Probably worried about waking Sylia if he goes upstairs. Chaz waited. Less than a minute later he could hear Mackie snoring. He chuckled. Looks like Nene wrung him dry. Chaz shrugged. He didn't have to sleep anymore if he didn't want to. His brain didn't get tired very often. But occasionally it was nice to dream. He went back to his work. Now how did Mackie say the interface for the thermograph went?

Mackie felt someone shake his shoulder. "Mackie." That was Nene's voice! In a panic he tried to remember. He definitely came home alone last night. "Mackie. Wake up." Still Nene's voice! Did she follow him home? Flipping over, Mackie opened his eyes . . . and screamed.

"That was hardly necessary," Chaz said in his own voice.

Mackie looked blearily around. "Where's Nene?"

Chaz's face altered momentarily to match the Knight Saber in question. "You mean me?" he said, matching the red head's voice. He resumed his normal face and voice. "I just thought you might respond better to her voice." Not to mention the look on your face was worth millions. "I'm sorry if I startled you." NOT!

Mackie looked Chaz dead in the eye. "Yeah. I'll just bet you are," he groaned. "What time is it anyway?" He looked around. Hmp. I must have fallen asleep in my clothes last night.

Chaz handed him a cup of coffee. "It's ten. You came in about eight hours ago." He grinned. "So how did the date go last night?" His face took on a 'tell me' look.

Mackie smiled. "Perfect. Couldn't have been better. She even expressed interest in doing it again sometime." If that kiss was any indication of what she expects, he had better make sure he ate a heavy meal next time. "Thanks for asking her for me."

Chaz stood up. "Not a problem. You'll have to ask her yourself next time though." He jerked the covers off Mackie. "Come help me with something will you?"

Mackie finished off his coffee. "Let me get changed and showered. I'll be out in a minute."

Chaz nodded and left.

Showered, shaved and changed, Mackie came out of the mini-bath ten minutes later. "What was so important you had to wake me up?" he growled in annoyance.

Chaz pitched the teen a thermos of coffee and nodded at the hard suit in its holder. "I wanted you to run a final test on the control systems. I used your design notes and diagrams for the hookup." He shrugged. "But they weren't very clear in places."

Mackie nodded and looked at the hard suit. The modular sockets for all of the systems had been closed and sealed. He picked up the fiber-optic connector. "Where did you get the parts?" The second he asked he knew the answer. "Oh no. You realize of course that sis is going to kill you?" It really wasn't a question. Chaz knew it. There was no way he couldn't know it. The question was would she blame him too? Mackie sighed and began running the diagnostics.

"Yeah. I know." The impudent grin on Chaz's face made it clear he considered it worth the risk.

Privately Mackie agreed. The hardsuits were nice but not really suited for a man. Not this suit though. This one had STYLE! Still wondering where Chaz got the design, Mackie tapped the keyboard and ran a full test on the system. The hard-suit on the rack twitched a couple times as the program checked myomer actuation. Then a non-standard subsystem came up. "Where the hell did you get this from?" Mackie said pointing.

Chaz leaned over. "That still has to be debugged." He shrugged. "I thought I'd ask Nene to do it."

Mackie started reading the report on it. "You realize what this thing could do to you if it severely fucks up? It's plugged right into your AI interface."

"Yeah I realize. It's also not likely to happen. There's an emergency cut off in that system and in my AI to stop it. Worst case scenario, I lose control of the hard-suit." He shrugged. If it happened to one of the others, they'd be dead. The suits were too heavy for them to move around in unpowered. He, on the other hand, could move with an unpowered suit on with almost no difficulty.

Mackie shook his head. "No. Worst-case scenario, the suit locks up. Even you'll have trouble if that happens. But it's your neck." He looked back at the diagnostic. "After Nene debugs it I'd like to take a look at it. By the way, not a bad job. Couple of crossed connections but nothing that's unfixable though." He laughed. "One that could have been embarrassing. You had your com-link wired so it wouldn't shut off." He laughed and typed a little. "I've changed the software to fix some of the connections. It's easier than reopening the system."

"So what do you think? Will the system hold together?" This was the important part as far as Chaz was concerned.

"Undoubtedly. Actually I'm amazed. You said you didn't do any high-end programming." Mackie turned to look at Chaz. His face went pale. "You didn't write this. Where the hell did you get it from?" The answer was as obvious as the question. "GENOM."

Chaz nodded. "It was one of the many programs sitting in storage in my AI. It allows a modified 33-S to interface directly with intelligent weapons systems. Some of the others are for breaking into databases, code-breaking, etc."

A low whistle poured from between the awed teen's lips. "Jesus. Has sis seen those yet?" Mackie asked. Those kinds of programs were extremely complex. They ATE processor power.

The denim-covered shoulders went up in a complex shrug. "Yeah. Her recommendation was to leave them down unless I needed them in a hurry." Actually, she'd said he'd be a moron to use any of them in anything but an emergency.

"So what about this one?" Mackie said, pointing to the screen.

"That's the only exception. It's hardwired into the AI. But the system is designed around it. It should make the hard-suit feel like my own body. No lag time on the controls. No problems with sensor input. Nothing." Truthfully, the whole system scared Chaz shitless. The idea wasn't a new one. It was the application that scared him. To use it he would have to let the system have direct access to his AI. That was like plugging a toaster into your brain. If he didn't trust Sylia's systems implicitly he wouldn't let a direct interface come within a mile of his cranium.

Mackie looked at him skeptically. "Yeah, I can believe that part of it. But you do know what happens if THAT screws up." He looked up to see Chaz nodding his head. "Just making sure. The software as it stands is fine. Once you tune it with Nene I would NEVER change it again. Nene is the only person I know whose programs NEVER have bugs." He disconnected the fiber-optic line. "The rest of the system is fine. You still need to get a couple of the special weapons pieces you wanted. Other than that she's ready to go."

Chaz's alarm went off. "Just in time, we're supposed to be at Professor Raven's in a little while." Chaz picked up the tarp and threw it over the hard-suit.

"I noticed you already installed the box." Mackie remarked as they walked out the door. "What are you going to do for a hard-suit if an emergency comes up?"

"Use that one."

Mackie whistled, "You like living dangerously don't you?"

Chaz walked into the testing center at Raven's and stopped. He'd seen the Knight Sabers in their soft suits before, but something was different. Now their smiles almost looked predatory. He attempted a smile. "Um . . . Hi. What's up?" His AI decided that he was feeling nervous and started to produce sweat. Chaz shut it off. If anything, their smiles had gotten broader. Sylia said not a word; she just motioned him into the simulator. What the hell is going on here? He looked around. Nothing new. He'd only been in the simulator once before. The holographic opponent hadn't even been a challenge. Oh, of course. He looked back out as Sylia began the program. She's changed the setup. I'm about to get my ass kicked. He could see it in their faces. He turned to face his opponent. Well, we will just see about that.

Sylia watched as the simulation began. Chaz really didn't have a chance. The adjustment to the simulator was a simple one. She'd measured his reflexes the last time he was here. She'd just turned up the speed to match. A normal human couldn't react as fast as he was need to. Even she and Mackie couldn't. Their brains were still partly organic and their muscles and bones were completely organic. Chaz tended to rely on his speed. He had almost no real skill at all. When you had that kind of speed you generally didn't need it. This time the speed wouldn't help as much.

Chaz was beginning to get annoyed. The simulator was moving like a cat on speed AND acid. It was taking his total concentration just to keep from getting hit. His objective was to hit any of the vulnerable points shown. He had perfect control of his body. It should have been easy. It was turning out to be infuriating. He'd been forced to kick off the shoes of his soft-suit within seconds. The soles couldn't take the stress. After the second time they'd ripped, he'd begun to realize how much trouble he was in. His mind still thought in term of human strength and speed levels. When he jumped he had to be careful not to hit his head on the ceiling. Normally he wouldn't be having this trouble. He would have been able to keep control of his strength. He dodged another holographic tentacle. Problem was he'd never had to make use of all of it before.

He cursed in a mixture of English and Japanese as he used the back wall to give him a forward boost. Twice he'd almost kicked through one of the walls when he used them as launching pads. When he speeded up even solid things became semi-fragile. Plus, he was running out of time. His chronometer said he had ten seconds left to hit a vulnerable spot or fail. Well, there was one thing he could try.

Linna, looked into the simulator. It was incredible. According to the simulator, he was doing what for him would be the equivalent of level six fighting. According to the smaller level indicator next to it, this would be her equivalent of level twelve. He was fighting better than humanly possible. Some of the statistics were frightening. His reaction time was less than half her own. He was performing leaps that Linna wouldn't have believed if she weren't watching. Even the razor dolls hadn't behaved like that. She looked down. The simulator had just rerated the simulation to level thirteen. She looked up in time to hear Chaz yell.

"Speedball!" Chaz braced himself. This was going to work. He didn't know whom he was trying to convince. He shoved with all his strength off the floor towards the closest wall. He caught his weight on his legs against the wall and rebounded for the opposite side of the room, hands flashing within a foot of the swiftly dodging holo-opponent. Flipping quickly, he again caught his weight and rebounded; this time to the sidewall. Bouncing off the unbreakable glass he flipped for the final time plunging past his confused holographic opponent.

Priss stepped back a pace from the glass as Chaz bounced off of it. Incredulity had been replaced with respect tinged with a bit of carefully suppressed fear. 'Why didn't GENOM build all of their attack boomers like this?' She asked herself as she watched his hands pass by the attack point. The holo was whirling madly in an effort to tag the human superball. Even to her untechnical eye she could see the strain on the computer. The normally solid image of the opponent was flickering as it tried desperately to update the image fast enough to catch its tormentor. Another bang echoed through the control room as Chaz bounced off the wall again. 'I've been sleeping with that?' Priss had always prided herself on her agility and speed. Linna had been good competition. She was better than Priss, but only just. Sylia was better than either of them, of course. But God! Chaz moved like gravity and he were only passing acquaintances. Priss had never been truly scared of someone she liked before. Than the less cynical part of her brain crept to the fore. It could be worse. He could be on the OTHER side.

Reaching out and extending his monowire claws Chaz sliced through the indicated spot. Gotcha! Less than a split second later reality caught up to him. Shit! He'd overextended and forgotten about the opposite wall. Flipping desperately, he backsmacked into the far wall. The wall, already tortured beyond endurance collapsed under him. He felt the familiar itch run down his spine. Damn. He'd done some damage to the skin back there from the feel of it.

Nene watched as Chaz tried to lever himself away from the wall. The look on his face as he'd hit was priceless. Nene began to giggle. Her shoulders and flaming red hair shaking with restrained mirth.

Priss stared. Right up until the end it had been so scary. It was like he was an unstoppable machine; then to end up like that. She couldn't help it. She raised her hand to her mouth and started to laugh. Maybe it wasn't such a good thing that he was on their side. Gasping, she got out one word. "Smooth."

Linna watched as Priss began to break out in hysterics. He'd just pulled off an incredible maneuver! Except for that end! Against her will, Linna joined in the laughter.

Sylia couldn't help it. The ending wasn't what finally got her. It was the trouble he was having getting out of the form-fitting dent in the wall. Sylia covered her face to block out the sight and began to laugh.

From the other side of the glass Chaz watched as his fellow Knight Sabers broke into laughter. He checked. There was only one left standing. "Mackie, buddy, pal, could you get me a crowbar?" His plea only served to reduce the others to helpless hysterics. Nene and Linna were on the floor grasping their stomachs and rolling. Sylia was falling out of her chair and gasping for breath. And Priss, his girlfriend for Christsake, was leaning on a wall pounding on it as she hooted. But he held onto hope. Mackie wasn't laughing at least. Mackie would help him. Chaz watched as the teen nodded and turned to get go get the requested tool. But as he left Chaz could see his shoulders shaking with laughter.

Mason had finished it. With this plan he could strike a double blow. USSD had been keeping it a secret that they had two heavy, combat class, search and destroy boomers on loan from GENAROS. Secret from most, but not from GENOM. All he had to do was set them free in the development zone. In one stroke he would be able to force the tenants in that area out, kill one of the Knight Sabers, show up Madigan, and further discredit USSD. He smiled. It was perfect. Done correctly no one would ever connect GENOM to the incident. He would have to be there to supervise, of course, but the risk was minimal. Liberating the boomers would be the easiest part. In the dimness of the planning room Mason began to laugh.


	4. Chapter 4

Chaz sat in Sylia's computer room silently studying the files she'd marked for him to read. After two weeks he'd gotten through about half of them. Thanks to his AI his reading speed and retention were phenomenal. The problem was the AI couldn't help him understand what the files were saying. He could have memorized all of them in one day if he'd wanted to. But the files interlocked in such a fashion that it was best to read them and integrate the knowledge rather than just scan them into memory.

He sighed. Sometimes it seemed like such a waste. Sylia's research was brilliant. Her father's was well into the genius level. But because of one mistake in judgment, most of it was being wasted. What was being used was being perverted. Professor Stingray had done much more research into field effects then Chaz had even suspected. The primary field was a relatively early discovery. Much of the rest had been put off because the resources needed to test the theories weren't available. Maybe in a couple of more days he could finish his reading and actually start discussing the material with Sylia. Yeah, right.

A mental note came up from his AI. At some point he had to make a trip out to see Irene. Her nano-neural surgery, despite the doctor's fears, had gone very well. She was up, and if not exactly running yet at least on her way, with nothing to show that a portion of her spine was cybernetic. He smiled. That news had come just in time to coincide with his and Priss's first jam session. He'd made the mistake of telling her he played the guitar. Since then she'd been hounding him to regain his old skill and play with her. Luckily his new body didn't get stiff or need to build up callus. He'd surpassed his old skill within the first couple days. Not that that was saying much, he admitted.

/Warning: The frequency monitored at user request has just announced a recall./

Chaz shoved himself away from the terminal. Shit! What now? Leaping from the chair Chaz sprinted out of the room leaving the computer behind. Reveling in the speed, he took the corners at high speed. The recall signal had reached him in the computer room a only fifteen seconds ago, when he neared the door to the assembly room. Slowing down enough to allow the door to open in front of him he walked calmly into the situation room. He looked around and panicked. "Where's Sylia?" The only occupant of the room was Mackie.

Mackie looked up from the radio receiver with a worried look on his face. "She's in a meeting with Fargo on the other side of town. Nene sent in the recall in from ADP. Linna and Priss are en route. But they won't be here for at least fifteen minutes." He turned up the police band volume.

Leon's voice echoed over the radio. Chaz tuned his radio to the same frequency. 'This is ADP-02 we have ...tiple men .own and we need the K-12s NOW! The ...mers have been identified as...' The next few words were drowned out as an explosion rolled in the background. Static washed over the signal as the sound of a particle beam being fired was heard. Then the radio went dead.

Chaz thought furiously and checked the recall map. Sylia wouldn't be here for at least twenty-five minutes. He came to a conclusion. He wasn't terribly happy about it. If he survived Sylia was doubtless going to kill him. He grabbed Mackie. "Your armored-suit finished yet?" His voice left no doubt as to why he was asking.

Mackie gulped and nodded. "Finished tested and ready to go." He stood and started running towards the roof.

Chaz nodded. "I'll be at the KnightWing in two minutes." He said as he raced to the door. Without hesitation he crashed through the door losing little momentum. He had to get to his room. By the time he reached the stairs he'd ripped off all his clothing. No time for the soft-suit. He reached the hanger and ripped the tarp away from his hardsuit. The blue-black hardsuit gleamed dully in the bright light. Reflections from the red lava lamp ran away from the metallic fittings like dripping blood.

Matter Over Mind Productions

Presents

MegaTokyo 2032

The Knight Sabers

"A Certain Point of View"

Chapter Four: Hot Wind

Copyright (c) 2005 Charles S. Stitman

Leon was having a VERY bad day. Those boomers were too fucking fast! They had appeared out of nowhere and proceeded to lay waste to everything in their path. The ADP had never been intended to have to face off against combat boomers. They hadn't had a chance. Leon looked around. Within his immediate area at least six officers lay dead. Like he was doing so much better. Wearily Leon looked down at the jagged piece of metal protruding from his chest. When the car he had been behind had gotten blown up he had been lucky to escape at all. By now those monsters had probably wiped out his whole command. He checked the sky. Where are they? He didn't know if he was looking for the Knight Sabers or the K-12s. Either would do at this point. No. To be honest he was looking for the Knight Sabers. The K-12s wouldn't be up to this.

Nene was frantic. No one was answering at Sylia's place! Her fellow AD-Police were dying out there. Two K-12s had been dropped in and had been destroyed in under a minute. Leon had stopped reporting in six minutes ago. USSD was just mobilizing. Where were they?

Two of Sylia's wheels left the pavement as she spun around the corner. This had to happen while she was out. She hadn't even been gone an hour! Fargo had started to tell her that GENOM was up to something having to do with land development when the signal came. Damn! She dodged around a slow moving car, her wheels riding up on the sidewalk and side panel scraping the side of a building. That was going to be expensive. Behind and to her left she could see a black cloud streaked with flame billowing into the sky. A noise like a large vacuum passed by overhead heading towards the smoke. Sylia's blood ran cold as she glanced in her rear view mirror. That was the KnightWing! Chaz couldn't fly it yet. Mackie had to be piloting! Sylia swore and briefly debated about calling the KnightWing and ordering them to stop and pick her up. Despite emotional provocation she decided that would be a bad idea. There wasn't time anyway. But they were going to need backup ASAP and without her hardsuit she wouldn't be much help.

Mackie was scared. He'd never gone to the front line of a combat zone before. Part of his mind was dealing with the unfamiliarity of the armor. Another part of his mind was flying the KnightWing through the remote system. He was too big to get into the cockpit now. The last part was watching Chaz as he stood at the doorway. For a normally talkative man he'd been very succinct in his orders. "Stay in the plane." That was it. No leeway for misinterpretation. He wondered how Chaz could take the stress. The fact that his glands didn't override his brain probably helped. Mackie pulled the simulated yoke back and switched the vectored thrust to hover mode. Using small bursts he brought the KnightWing neatly over the top of a building. Knight Saber standard procedure was to stay as close to the buildings as possible to cut down on detection.

The KnightWing swung into view of the fight and Mackie gasped. Underneath the heavy exoskeleton he was sweating. Not from the heat, the armor had a built in cooling system, but from fear. This went well beyond the normal rampage of a domestic robot or even the terror of a C-55 let loose. Something had gone seriously wrong here.

Chaz opened the hatch and stared out the door. It looked like hell down there. What wasn't in rubble seemed in flames. Brief flickers of red and blue-white energy beams lanced through the thick smoke lending it the aspect of a hellish thunderstorm. What the heck had caused this much damage? Even a BU-12 wouldn't have been able to do this much damage in so little time. Then he saw them. They stood taller than BU-12s but they moved like cats. Someone had wanted a design that said dangerous. A design that gave no doubt as to its purpose. If that was the design philosophy, Chaz decided, then the engineers had done their job. "What the fuck are those?" With no reply forthcoming from either Mackie or his AI, Chaz detached his tether. He had to jump before he lost his nerve. Taking his armor off standby he threw himself out the hatch.

Tumbling briefly he used his thrusters to stabilize his fall. Under the dark blue helmet his face broke out in a wide grin. The interface was working perfectly. The hardsuit didn't even seem to be there. It responded as quickly and with the same fluidity as his body did. Still dropping quickly, he scanned the area for his targets. The smile fell away from his face as he saw the bodies. ADP troops had been slaughtered like cattle. Grimly Chaz turned his attention back to his targets. They didn't seem to have spotted him or the KnightWing yet. Good. The KnightWing had come in through the smoke with full ECM running. Even his sensors couldn't place it now. If Nene had been here her suit would have kept him advised and in contact with the others. He shrugged mentally. He was the only one out here. There wasn't much danger of hitting someone or being hit; at least not accidentally. "Mackie. I want you to create a link to the KnightWings targeting system from my telemetry. If they caught you locking on to them they'd waste you."

Mackie began setting up the connection. Concentrating on his work he began to manipulate the necessary ECCM and encryption routines. "It should be ready in about two minutes." He moved his attention back to the visual from Chaz's hardsuit. Chaz was as ready as he would ever be. Every system in his suit was reading in the green, so far.

Priss's bike screeched into the garage. Tearing off her helmet she pounded down the stairs into the hardsuit storage area. Where the hell was everyone? All the hardsuits were in their racks! Linna burst into the room as Priss was pulling on her softsuit.

"The KnightWing is gone!" Linna yelled as she pulled at her hardsuit. "Chaz and Mackie must already have left!" Her gaze followed Priss's pointing finger. Shit! Chaz's hardsuit was still here! What did he think he was doing?

Leon watched through his cracked sunglasses as a dark blue form flew from the sky. He'd seen the Knight Sabers jet before, but this armor was new. Normal Knight Saber armor seemed designed to say 'good guy.' From the blades on the arms to the spiked death mask on the helmet. THIS armor screamed 'WAR MACHINE!' Set below a metal disk in the forehead the two eye slits glowed red. A thought flitted through Leon's brain before he passed out. Whoever is in there looks pissed.

Chaz landed and immediately revised his estimate of the situation. It wasn't hell. It was Armageddon. Bad as it had looked from the air it was worse on the ground. Bodies in various states of dismemberment were lying everywhere. Cars had been picked up and tossed through second story windows. Powering up his interior lasers, Chaz started a sensor-scan for the boomers. Oh Shit, he thought as one of the boomers showed up behind him. Where's the other one? His answer came in the form of a blue-white beam of energy slamming into him from the side. His AI flatly refused to identify the damn things. It did, however, offer the recommendation that those particle beams NOT hit him again. The KSBB had absorbed the charge but the battacitor had been somewhat drained by the effort.

The boomer in front of him seemed to have registered his presence and was firing a series of red laser beams that dug into the concrete where they touched. Chaz leapt forward into a rolling dive that took him out from between the two boomers. Pulling up short he came into a crouch and fired both hand lasers at the nearest boomer. The beams lanced out in a line of fluorescing smoke running deep lines in the black armor but otherwise having no effect. Oh hell, he thought as both boomers returned fire.

Mackie looked down at the conflagration. Chaz seemed to be doing okay. He hadn't managed to hurt them yet. On the other hand they hadn't gotten a second shot within a foot of him. They just couldn't seem to get a lock on him. A beeping came from his computer. It had finally interfaced with Chaz's sensor array. He opened his com-link. "Chaz, the connection's stable. The KnightWing will fire as soon as you designate a target."

The information was a little redundant. Chaz had known the second that the link had been made. Everything seemed to flicker and speed up. Shit. The link was bogging down his AI. Dodging was going to become a real pain. He locked his sensors on the lead boomer. "Mackie. Now would be a very good time," he radioed as he dodged another laser barrage. Everything seemed come in as like a slide show as the KnightWing pulled all the information it could from his sensors, bogging down his AI even more.

The boomers saw their chance as their annoying opponent slowed down for a moment. The one in the lead leveled its lasers as a hatch on the second popped open to reveal a series of mini-missile launchers. As both boomers began to open fire the first boomer developed a small problem. Its head and a large part of its body disappeared. The explosion was immense. The second boomer fired its missiles despite the explosion.

Inside the hard suit Chaz's time sense had sped up enough for him to see the missiles being launched. Throwing himself into the air, he managed to avoid two out of the eight. Using his lasers he point defended against two more. The other four caught him in mid-air. One missile impacted on his leg damaging the thruster on that side and sending him into a spin while the others kicked him around. "Mackie! Cut the connection!" He screamed into the com-link as he was thrown through a wall.

Mackie was busy himself. The railgun hadn't liked the telemetry aim and was trying to lock on to the signal source! He'd been trying to sever the signal and confuse the targeting computer for almost a minute. With a sudden flare of sparks the main computer shorted out. The secondary kicked in immediately. Mackie checked the status boards. The main computer had taken the targeting system and half the ECM equipment with it.

Chaz's sensors went dark. What the hell! He shook his head. Nothing. He tried to stand. The hardsuit hung like a stiff snowsuit. Fuck! The linkage had blown and taken the armor's control link along for the ride. Reaching up, Chaz jerked off his helmet. With his own sensors free Chaz could see the second boomer moving through the smoke and coming in for he kill. Without the field to increase the armors integrity he was a dead man. Springing to his feet Chaz began to run. His only hope was to out-maneuver it. The heavy, locked up suit was going to make that difficult. Firing with both lasers, Chaz dodged to the best of his ability.

The boomer had finally gained a lock on its quarry. It appeared to have been wounded in the missile explosions. If the boomer had been equipped to smile, it would have. Both laser arrays came up to full power as it prepared to turn its enemy into slag.

Mackie watched as the boomer raised its arms to fire. Chaz wasn't moving nearly as fast as he should be. He rechecked the systems. The backup ECM and targeting computer wouldn't be up for at least another minute. Mackie panicked. Chaz didn't have that long. Grabbing his heavy rifle Mackie put the KnightWing on autopilot and walked to the door.

Chaz saw the boomer putting the metaphorical cross hair on his skull. A dull WHOMP emanated from the boomers back pitching it forward as it fired. The boomer tipped off balance and fell, firing. Chaz felt a brief moment of disorientation then blackness claimed him.

Mackie's thrusters were keeping him steady as he dropped to the ground. His shot hadn't been enough! Mackie watched in horror as the boomer lasers sliced through Chaz's neck armor taking his head clean off. In a brief spray of red-gray bio-fluid, Chaz's body collapsed to the ground.

The boomer, sensing a new opponent, turned to face Mackie. With a quick movement it sprayed him with laser fire and rolled to its feet. A threat assessment ran through its C-class brain. This opponent didn't seem to react quite as fast as the last one, it thought, as its laser barrage slid off the armored form.

Mackie, in a rage, brought up his cannon as the lasers impacted. He smiled grimly. It takes more than a couple of heavy lasers or particle beams to put THIS armor down. His targeting computer gave him a lock and the big autocannon began to fire.

The boomer dodged the majority of the heavy slugs. This opponent may be slower but its firepower and armor were easily heavier. Two of the slugs found the hatch to the mini-missiles and bent the casing, fusing it shut. The boomer didn't care. Extending its claws it ran to get within grappling range.

Mackie was in trouble and he knew it. That thing was bigger and faster than him and probably had MUCH greater strength. Laying down fire he tried to force the swift moving boomer to maintain its distance. With a roar the boomer ducked the barrage, taking some minor damage and closed in. Dropping the gun, Mackie reached out and grabbed the boomers arms. Almost immediately the suit's integrity and stress warnings went off. Damn. Where were the rest of the Knight Sabers? Cold sweat broke out over his face as he saw those vicious looking blades dipping closer to his armor.

In the shadows Mason smiled coldly. It had worked better than he had thought it would; one Knight Saber down and another on the way. The area was wrecked. Everybody would sell to GENOM now, even the survivors. Cheap probably.

Mason turned and left. His armor had protected him from stray fire and he had the HTR's friend-foe frequency. He grinned evilly beneath his visor. Why not let it play for a while? He sent the signal to make the HTR fully autonomous and left. Anything else was gravy. Already planning how he would use this victory, Brian J. Mason walked back to the waiting truck, stepping over the body of the AD-Police officer that had spotted him. He looked down. Still breathing. No matter. He won't last long. Ignoring the fallen red-haired detective, Mason got in the modified van and drove off.

Coughing up blood, Daley opened his remaining eye. The rose tattooed arm stirred. Struggling against the pain he raised his voice recorder to his mouth and harshly gurgled the serial number he'd seen on the armor: GN 8575-X-CDV. You . . .won't get away . . .you bastard, he thought . . . before the final darkness claimed him.

Linna and Priss landed on the outskirts of the battlefield. Amazing levels of interference had kept them from contacting the others. Nene could probably have broken it but the two combat suits didn't have the equipment.

Priss, her thrusters running at a fever pitch, leapt into the air to survey the damage. That's got to be Mackie! "Linna, a boomer's about to eviscerate Mackie. Distract him." Linna nodded and began firing her blaster.

The boomer registered the impacts and dismissed them. They were too weak to hurt it. He would deal with their source in a moment. No longer able to play, the boomer began forcing Mackie's arm back and its claws into the teens armor.

Mackie was beginning to panic. Those claws had a nearly monomolecular edge and they were moving to slowly for the field to notice. Mackie keyed the emergency power shunt and managed to arrest their forward progress. A countdown timer appeared in his helmet. In ten seconds the emergency boost power in the armor would die, and so would he.

Priss flew over the grappling couple. She couldn't miss. The boomer didn't even seem to notice her. The targeting computer gave her a lock on a chink in the boomers armor. With a sonic crack the three razor guns fired their electrified needles. The needles sank into the armor and out of sight. The boomer paused and then resumed forcing Mackie's arms back.

The boomer knew it was dying. Those last few shots had breached its power cells. When the overload reached the delicate AI it would die. But, it was determined to take down at least one more of these fleas with it. Using its remaining power it forced the claws farther into the armor before it.

Linna had been running forward since Priss fired. She would take another second to reach them. Priss's jump had carried her too far to return any faster. Mackie was going to die and there wasn't anything they could do about it.

Mackie felt the boomer's claw-tips entering his inner hardsuit. This was it. Priss and Linna were too far away and Sylia wasn't in sight. Closing his eyes Mackie strained to keep from screaming as the claws found his skin. Far away he heard a boom and a shock ran up his arm. The resistance against his arms suddenly cut off.

The boomer swayed like a drunk as it's head erupted in a spray of burning parts and spurting bio-fluid. Mackie backed away as the boomer fell face first to the ground. His jaw nearly fell off when he saw what had dropped it.

Priss looked at the back of the boomer. "Chaz!" Chaz's headless body was attached to the back of the boomer his hands buried deep in the dead boomer's back. She dropped down and pulled the arms free of the smoking hulk. Chaz's body struggled for a moment as streamers of electricity flowed over it and then went stiff. A great shiver ran through it and it stopped moving. Red-gray bio-fluid continued to slowly well and drip from his severed neck. Tears began to roll down Priss's face falling into the faceplate of her helmet as Mackie and Linna walked up. She looked up, tears beginning to distort her suit readouts. "He's dead."

Sylia's voice picked up over their com-links. "No. But he soon will be if we don't get him out of here." Sylia dropped from a mostly intact building. "Mackie bring the KnightWing down. Linna find his head and helmet if you can." The three were looking at her like she was mad. "He's not human remember?" She brushed Priss out of the way and picked up the body, ignoring the streamers of electricity that continued to arc occasionally. "His brain is in his chest. But he's hemorrhaging power and bio-fluid. The only thing keeping him alive is his self-repair system. When it runs out of power. He'll die." Priss and Linna sprang into action. Linna headed for the small puddle of bio-fluid that marked where Chaz had lay only moments ago. Priss started to track the transponder in the helmet.

Chaz felt flickering sensations. I'm hurt bad. His AI was telling him about the damage. My head? If he could have, he would've laughed. Sometimes I just lose my head over the smallest things. Somehow, it just seemed so poetic. His AI was telling him that repairs were underway. Unfortunately the shorts and power surges caused by the sudden removal of his head and the overload firing of his lasers had shut down his bio-converter and shorted his main batteries. Which meant he was running on laser battery power; the same batteries he'd almost depleted in the fight. The repairs to the control structure would take four hours at minimum power. The battery power would, unfortunately, run out in three. To conserve power the AI had shut down all unnecessary systems. Motive power was gone. All remaining sensor input was minimized. Most of those systems had been centered in his head anyway. The laser system had been shut down. /What about the fusion plant/

-System intact. However, control program has never been installed. Unable to bring system on-line. WARNING: Inertial gyro-compass indicates this unit is being moved rapidly through the air. Should protective systems be armed? YES/No?-

/Don't worry about it. With any luck it's the rest of the team come to save my worthless hide./

-Affirmative. Shutting down auto-response. Note: Bio-fluid rupture sealed by outside source. New damage taken in left forearm area. Bio-fluid loss minimal. Assigning to secondary repair list. WARNING: Outside system attempting to interface with primary CPU. Allow access? Yes/NO?-

Probably Sylia. /Allow limited communications access./

-Affirmative. Analyzing code. Identified as voice transmission. Japanese. Translators on-line. Processing. Communications link established. Transmit and receive at will.-

Sylia's voice came through. ". .az? Can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear Sylia. I'm sorry about Mackie, I didn't think he'd follow me down."

"He's fine Chaz. He's just got a few cuts and bruises. I've closed off your bio-fluid leak and stabilized your supply. What else do you need done?" She sounded worried.

Chaz wanted to grin. "I don't suppose you have a large generator handy do you? My AI says that power is at a premium. In fact if I don't get a substantial supply soon I'll die."

Somewhere in the background he heard a gasp and a sob. Sylia's voice came back on. "I've got a power supply but I can't find a connection."

"One second I'll see if I can get a location from the AI."

/Where is the secondary power supply outside feed located/

-Power coupling was contained in this unit's head. No other access exists. Auto-cutoff systems prevent direct access to power system to prevent accidental or aggressive overload. Systems fused in combat. Repair in three and one-half hours possible.-

Terrific. He was going to be killed by his own protective systems. "Sylia. The power feed was located in my head. If you try to directly access my power system an automatic safety will cut the power."

Priss couldn't stand it. Chaz's body was stripped and laying naked on the KnightWings operating table. He wasn't moving. His skin was beginning to turn gray and cold. She turned her back on him. She couldn't watch him die. Not like this. Sylia was talking to him thorough a port in his arm. The voice coming out of the speaker sounded like an old-fashioned voice synthesizer. Dead. Linna sat in the seat next to Mackie's discarded armor, tears falling down her face. Priss dropped into the chair next to her. Mackie was in the cockpit racing the KnightWing towards Professor Raven's secondary workshop. He had better repair facilities. Priss sobbed and continued to hold back her tears. Repair facilities. They couldn't even take him to a hospital!

Sylia listened as Chaz gave her a list of the systems that had been damaged. There wasn't really that much actual damage. The problem was the feedback had caused overloads in a lot of control structures. If he had been human they wouldn't have had any hope. A small voice at the back of her mind whispered to her, 'and Mackie would be dead.' She wondered if he knew how close it came. She shook it off. It wasn't an immediate problem. Chaz was. "What about your fusion plant?"

Chaz concentrated. The AI was telling him that running the power to keep his consciousness active was using more power than it had thought.

-Ninety percent probability of an untracked short.-

Despite overrides he was slowly being put to sleep to conserve power.

/Give me emergency power./

-No equivalent system.-

If he ever found the asshole who designed this body. . . "Sorry Sylia. The AI told me that the system's intact but there's no control program for it. Try and start it without one and BOOM." Actually not quite true: you couldn't even start it without the program. The safeties wouldn't let you. "The AI's putting me to sleep. Before I go under I'm giving you full command privileges. Tell Linna. . . Nene. . . Mackie. . . and Priss I love. ." The darkness rushed up and over him.

Sylia turned away from the terminal. Chaz's last words still hung in the air. "Priss, Linna, go get Nene. Wherever she is GET her. NOW." Priss and Linna looked up into Sylia's eyes. For the first time since they had known her they had tears in them. "Before it's too late," she whispered.

Priss and Linna grabbed their helmets and rode the motoroids out the open hatch. They didn't know why Sylia wanted Nene. But they trusted her. If she said she wanted Nene NOW, NOW is what it would be. Facing towards the AD-Police building in the distance they accelerated to their maximum speed.

Nene was sitting in the situation room of the AD-Police when her beeper went off. Not now, she thought at it, I can't get away. Though the boomers had been downed, ADP was still fielding the aftermath. Leon had been picked up and taken to the hospital where he was in critical condition. No one had seen Daley since he'd left with Leon. Hundreds of people were missing. Most were feared dead. The fires from the rampage were still spreading despite the best efforts of the firefighters. The carnage had driven more than a couple of domestic boomers insane. What remained of the ADP couldn't keep up. Nene and Naoko were swamped. There was simply too much to handle. Nene hadn't been able listen in to the Knight Sabers frequency since her first call to Mackie. There had been reports that one of the Knight Sabers had been killed. She was worried sick but distracting herself with work.

Priss wasn't in the mood to go through channels. Her sensors had picked up Nene's beeper on the eleventh floor. Damn! The ceiling was too low for them to take a motoroid in. Priss primed the self-destruct and ejected from the motoroid, letting it fall to the parking lot below. Without a second thought Priss lowered her shoulder and broke through the tempered glass. Ignoring the stares and shouts of alarm, Priss searched for Nene. Where is she? A break in the crowd showed Nene sitting in shock at a desk terminal. There she is!

Nene was overwhelmed. What was Priss doing here? Her cover would be blown sky-high! Two of her coworkers pulled their guns and leveled them on Priss. Priss ignored them, advancing steadily on Nene. Nene looked up into the helmet. This is serious, she thought. Nene nodded and stood. Naoko started yelling at her to stop. Priss led her to the window where Linna was hovering. Nene looked back at the stunned AD-Police. I'm not going to see them again, she thought sadly and stepped out the window and into Linna's arms.

Linna whirled and accelerated for Raven's at full velocity. Reaching down she covered Nene as best she could. Nene was tough but Linna wouldn't kill one Knight Saber to try and save another.

Priss, ignoring the shouts and orders from the police behind her, watched them soar out of sight and then jumped out the window. Without the motoroid she was going to have to take one of the alternate routes back. Throwing her thrusters to full she headed for the canyons.

Nene walked into the room at Raven's unprepared for what lie on the table. Turning quickly from the sight, she threw up onto the floor. Sylia walked over to her. "He's not dead yet Nene."

Nene nodded numbly not really hearing her. Not dead? His head was fucking gone. She looked again. Tubes filled with bio-fluid flowed into Chaz's arms keeping the skin alive. A fiber-optic cable led into one arm from a complex computer terminal. Sylia's voice registered briefly in her shocked mind. "Do you trust me?" Vaguely the young redhead nodded. She felt a cold pain hit her shoulder.

Sylia stepped away from her holding a spray hypo in her hands. "I don't have a lot of time to explain," Sylia said as she grabbed Nene's arm. She led her out of the room and down a hallway. "Chaz needs a program to control his fusion plant and he needs it within two hours." Sylia picked Nene up and sat her in a complex chair. "The drug I gave you will allow you to think faster and more clearly than normal." Sylia pulled an IV out of a cabinet and shoved the needle expertly into the vein in Nene's arm. "The specifications for the fusion plants control interface are in the computer already. Remember you've only got two hours." She reached over and forced Nene's finger down on a contact.

Nene's world faded away. It brightened quickly. In front of her was a diagram of the generator. Next to it a stack of files hung in space. Two hours, Nene thought and got to work.

Linna looked over Sylia's shoulder as code raced up the screen. "How can she type that fast?" Better than a thousand words were scrolling by every minute.

Sylia glanced up. "She's not typing. Those are her thoughts being translated into code. I only hope she can finish in time." The two-hour time limit wasn't really for Chaz. He could start the generator with very little power. Maybe down to the last minute. Two hours was the maximum time Nene's body could handle operating at that speed. When she finished she would be unable to do anything but sleep for at least a week. The nutrients being fed into her system would cushion her a bit. But, if she didn't finish in two hours she wouldn't finish. Sylia's own nervous system could handle the speed much better. But she had to admit that Nene had a much better and more intuitive grasp of computer code, and right now they couldn't afford a mistake. Nervously she watched the words scroll up the screen.

One hour and fifty-six minutes later the code stopped. Sylia looked up. For about a minute the code sat on the screen. Then new code sprang up, even faster than the first. What is she doing? Three minutes later the code stopped. The sedative was just injected. Nene's out and Chaz is going to die. Ten more lines of code scrolled across the screen; an execution command. Sylia turned to look at Chaz.

Deep within his chest something stirred. A series of powerful electromagnets worked their magic on the resin lying at their core. A series of laser pulses flared and inside the resin a small flicker began to spread into a flame. The lasers fired in sequence again and the flame grew into a star. The lasers shut down. Deuterium was fed in VERY small amounts to the star. The magnets shut down as the thermo-couples kicked in. Power began to be pulled from the star keeping pace with the hydrogen being fed in. The star was now self-supporting. Power worked its way into the rest of the body. Far in the back of Chaz's AI an electronic voice giggled.

Priss walked into the lab, still dressed in her softsuit. Uncharacteristic moisture dampened her eyes. With concern etched in every feature she looked at Sylia. The team leader nodded. "He'll survive." Priss dropped into a chair and began to breathe deeply. Chaz was alive. Nene had done it. Priss worked at holding back the tears for a few minutes before getting up to look at Chaz.

What was left of his head sat on the table next to him. It looked like the first laser had taken him square in the forehead and the second sliced his head off just above the armor. Sylia had hooked up life support to the bioskin to prevent its decrepitude. If she could, she'd reconnect it later. Priss looked at the head. How many times had she kissed those lips? Looked into those cracked eyes? Reaching out she closed the cold lids over the staring eyes.

Sylia came up behind Priss and put her arm around the singer's shoulders. "He'll be fine Priss. Nene got his fusion plant up and running. With the power flowing he'll make it."

Priss turned around and looked at her boss and friend. She'd known Sylia for a couple of years now. Sylia had shown more emotion in the last week than in all the time before. Priss reached out and the two Knight Sabers held each other and waited for him to wake up.

Chaz came around slowly, a sure sign he was still hurting. The AI was making sure no damage had occurred while he was out and was slowly building the power back up. /Give me a system report./

-Okay. I've fixed most of the control systems and the fusion generator is on-line. The head sensors are still out obviously, but Sylia said that she would reconnect what she could. I'm holding off regenerating the head until she does that.-

Chaz was astounded. The AI sounded just like Nene! What happened to you? Remembering that the AI couldn't hear him if he didn't subvocalize, he repeated the question.

-I have been programmed with a personality overlay. Giggle. Nene thought you would enjoy the company.-

The damn thing giggled/How intelligent are you? Are you a true AI/

He heard a sigh. -Not very and no. I'm just a very sophisticated user interface overlaid on your original support computer.- The giggle again. -Though I'm cuter. I'll do everything your original system did only better. After I've been around for a while I might achieve full sentience. Nene thought that was at least a few years from now if ever.-

First I'm going to thank her for saving me. Then I'm going to kill her. Painfully.

-I've got an incoming message from system user Sylia Stingray. Accept?- It asked cheerfully.

/Yeah.Yeah./

"Feeling better?" Sylia asked solicitously.

Chaz tried to nod and forgot he couldn't. "According to Nene-two I'm in much better shape, thank you. Any idea when you can reconnect my head? I'm trying to refrain from using my scanning radar on everything, but being blind is very frustrating."

Sylia moved the scope around to check on his power output. "I'll do it in a little while. I've been keeping an eye on Nene. . . What do you mean Nene- two?"

"The little hacker installed a personality overlay into my AI. I wish you could hear it. Sounds just like her." He could practically feel the smile. VERY painfully.

"Well there's nothing to be done about it now. I've got someone who's very anxious to speak to you here." A long pause.

An angry voice snarled into his 'ears'. "This is what you get for running off without me!" Priss! "What did you think you were doing? You almost got killed you idiot!"

"Hey!" Chaz protested. "I didn't get killed did I? And I saved a lot of other people from getting killed. By the way. Has anyone ever told you you're beautiful when you're angry?"

"That has nothing to do with it." Then she got it. "You can't even see me! You little. . . I'm here worrying myself sick over you and you're making jokes."

"Sorry hon. I didn't mean for you to get worried," Chaz said contritely.

"Well you aren't in any condition for me to yell at you now." He felt a kiss brush his wrist. "I'll just have to wait." Why did that soft phrase seem to have teeth in it?

"You'll have to wait in line, Priss," came Sylia's voice. "I get first crack at him. For now, let me start reattaching his head."

Chaz felt someone lift him into a sitting position. "That's it? You're just going to place the head on top of the rest of his body?" Priss said in the background. Chaz could feel a weight being put on his shoulders. It's funny how you don't notice it until it's gone.

"That's all that's necessary. When his self-repair system notices it's here it will attach it better than I could," Sylia replied.

/The head is being placed on top of my shoulders. Affix it in place and start repairs./

-Gotcha boss. I should have it reattached in about an hour. Repair of the entire unit will take about a day and a half. Skin regrowth two hours.-

"Newton says about two days and I'll be back to tip top shape." You can yell at me then.

"Newton?" Priss' voice asked.

Chaz's eyesight flickered for a moment. "Yeah. I can't just call it Nene-Two. People would get confused."

-Chaz, I can give you partial vision through one eye until repairs are completed. You want it?-

/Damn straight. Thank you./

-Da Nada.-

Vision flickered and the world sprang into fuzzy view. "That's better. I can see again," Chaz said looking around. "Kind of." He saw a Priss shaped blur. "Hiya hon. Got a hug for me?"

Priss looked at him and then away. "Not until that hole in your forehead is gone."

Hole? "Can someone get me a mirror?" A Sylia shaped blur nodded and put a mirror in his hand. Sure enough, there was a dark blur on his forehead that was slowly resolving into a hole as his eye was repaired. Damn thing was probably large enough to put your finger through. "Guess you were right Priss. I do have holes in my head." He chuckled. /Is there any reason I shouldn't be mobile/

-No. But I wouldn't recommend any strenuous activity. The head is barely attached. No running.-

Chaz swung his legs off the edge of the bed. Slowly his vision was clearing.

Linna giggled. Sylia handed him a pair of underwear. "Cover yourself Chaz."

Chaz took the underwear and put them on. "Better?" He saw blurry nods. He looked around. "Where's Nene and Mackie? Are they all right?"

"Nene's fine. She's just very tired." Sylia explained. "She'll wake up in a couple days. Mackie's keeping an eye on the news."

Chaz blinked and his vision got a little better. "Great. Can I watch the news too?" He hopped down. Chaz felt a tug on his arm. Forgot about that. How long until vocal system can be repaired?

-One hour. Hearing in ten minutes.-

Chaz tried to sigh and hopped back up on the table. "I'm stuck here until my repair system finishes with my vocal system."

Linna got up. "I'll bring a TV down"

Sylia and Priss looked at him. Oh hell. This is where I start getting shit. He smiled as best he could. "So how did I do?" Better trigger it now before they really have time to think about it.

Priss leaned in. "Chaz if you EVER scare me like that again. I'll rip your head off myself. You'll wish that you. . . ." She considered it for a moment and then pressed her lips against his. He wished he could feel it. "You asshole! I thought I'd lost you!" She wrapped her arms around him and held on. Chaz returned the hug.

Sylia sat down on the other side of him. "Mackie told me that you told him to stay in the KnightWing." She inhaled. "He's growing up. It's getting harder to keep him out of trouble."

Chaz hopefully looked up at his boss. "So you're not mad?"

Sylia grinned. "I'm furious. But there's nothing I would have done differently. If I'd been there I would have done the same thing. Except maybe that stunt with the KnightWing." She looked at him narrowly. "What made you think that would work?"

Chaz shrugged still holding onto Priss. "I wasn't sure it was going to. You saw those things. They were too fast to get close to and too heavily armored for my weapons to seriously damage. If I had tried a head on fight I would have gotten, and did in fact get my butt kicked. If I had tried to use the KnightWing they would have blown it from the sky or swarmed up on it and ripped it to shreds. Their speed made it almost impossible to get a lock on them from the air. Where did they come from anyway? GENOM?"

Sylia shook her head. "So far all anyone knows is that they came from USSD. Why they had boomers like that is anyone's guess. I really don't know why they went berserk like that." She shrugged. "Hopefully Fargo or I can dig up some information on it."

Mackie and Linna ran down the stairs carrying a JTK Slimline TV. "You guys have to see this! Someone was using a video camera and left it running during the attack. The news has been broadcasting the footage over and over again." She plugged it in and turned it on.

The reporter stood against the background of a still burning city. The remains of the two boomers were surrounded by police lines and scrambling investigative technicians. Human and boomer fire fighters were shooting flame-foam into the multiple burning buildings. Half hidden by a scraped ADP troop transport are multiple lines of bodies under white sheets. "Horror struck at the heart of Mega-Tokyo last night. Two military boomers stolen from a USSD storage facility went on a rampage killing hundreds, wounding thousands and causing untold billions in damage." As the voice continued the camera panned across the destruction. More fires could be seen raging in the distance. "Even as I speak firefighters are valiantly trying to put out the fires and rescue the many people trapped by flame. But, the tragedy doesn't stop there. A group of mercenaries sometimes vilified as vigilantes lost one of their own last night stopping the rogue boomers." The camera finished its pan and returned to the reporter. "A victim of the destruction had a camera setup before he tried to escape. Tokyo News Four brings you this exclusive live action footage. For the benefit of our audience we warn you that the following footage has not been cut and contains violent scenes of truly graphic proportions. Children and those with weak stomachs should be kept from watching."

The scene looked suprisingly peaceful. A train stuffed with the usual morning rush was just pulling out of the station on the left side of the monitor. Crowds of people moved in and around the station intent on starting their day. People were getting in and out of taxis. Children were playing on the sculpture in the middle of the traffic circle. With the exception of the obviously rebuilt train station the whole area looked like any other poor urban area. The pre-quake buildings had cracks in their concrete and the antiquated above ground wiring still hung in the air. Despite that though the people looked like they were getting on with their lives. In the distance a small series of explosions could be heard moving quickly closer. On the screen a small red 'AUTO' went on before the sound of a door opening and closing.

On the street below women were grabbing their children and pushing their way through the crowds to the safety of the buildings. Taxis began pulling hurriedly out of the waiting area, as the explosions got closer. Almost directly across from the camera a section of concrete wall was blasted outwards sending sharp edged chunks of concrete spinning into the crowd.

Almost with one voice the crowd screamed and surged away from onrushing death. Many found it anyway beneath the heels of their panicking brethren. The scream rose in pitch as the two boomers began to move through the crowd leaving decapitated and dismembered bodies in their wake. Neither of the two seemed in a hurry. They simply moved through the crowd using their claws and strength.

From a window facing the station came the sound of a machine gun firing. Both boomers halted for a second. Having obviously determined that the shooter was no threat they resumed their work. Whoever the owner of the illegal gun was he wasn't stupid. The lead ricocheting off the walking death machines was hurting the fleeing crowd. Within seconds it seemed the crowd had ducked into whatever building would have them.

Chaz watched a mini-drama being played out in a corner of the screen. A couple of the taxi drivers that hadn't made it out were trying to help a pregnant women and her son into a car. Both men lifted the injured woman into the waiting taxi and then headed for the open road. He almost wanted to cry when the boomers finally noticed them. A series of laser bolts lanced into the hurtling vehicle. Before his eyes Chaz watched the once proud piece of machinery reduced to scrap. He cursed as his hearing came back on-line. The HD camera captured the sound of the screams and moans of agony perfectly.

The sounds of the dying were washed out slightly as an ADP Hornet swept in and strafed the monstrosities, its twin 20MM machine guns sounding like rolling thunder. Bullets chewed into the pavement and danced over the boomers armor in a hail of firepower.

Seemingly ignoring the deadly rain falling around it the lead boomer raised its arms and fired red bolt after red bolt of laser fire back at its tormentor.

Chaz could almost make out the laughter of the pilot and his gunner as the laser fire was absorbed and dispersed harmlessly by the copters armor. He wished he couldn't hear the yells and screams as the second boomer opened it's mouth and fired a particle beam through the hornets ducted fan. Spinning wildly the ADP chopper crashed to the rooftop below. Steel screamed and concrete flaked off the building as the weight of the aircraft came to rest on the edge of the tarred rooftop. From the position of the camera all that could be seen was the forward fuselage of the assault copter. His enhanced vision picked out the dead pilot. The gunner opened fire once more on the boomers below him. Chaz wanted to look away. The gunner was furious over his friend's death obviously.

Almost indifferently the same boomer that had downed the craft sent another searing bolt of energy through the cockpit. The dying helicopter went up in an explosion of fuel and ordnance that rained flaming parts and burning chunks of concrete into the street and set the building on fire. Distantly Chaz could hear the screams of those trapped in the burning building. Unfortunately so could the killers in the street. Separating they each entered a different building and were lost to the view of the camera.

Tears gathered in Chaz's eye as he heard the screams cut short as explosions and laser fire rocked the buildings. Occasional flashes of red and blue-white light flickered behind the windows occasionally piercing the concrete as the rampaging killers swept from floor to floor and building-to-building in search of their prey. Behind them flames built and began to lick at windows. The occasional gout of smoke appeared to disperse into the morning air, joining the oily smoke from the burning autos below. A brief spurt of gunfire erupted from the building that the shooter had been. Chaz could hear the panic in the man's voice as he yelled for someone to run. The sound of ricocheting bullets was cut off by the sound of a man being dismembered.

Chaz looked away from the screen. There hadn't been time to see this before. He'd been too busy trying to stay alive. His eyes looked over at the other Knight Sabers. Anything was better than watching the screen.

Priss looked angry, her hands clenched till the knuckles turned white. A thin line of blood ran down her hand where her fingernails had pierced the palm. Slowly, unconsciously she was pounding her fists against her legs.

Linnas eyes looked sick and glazed as if the screen were a snake she couldn't turn away from. Her body shook as tears ran unobstructed and unnoticed down her face.

Sylia had put her mask firmly in place. Only the subtle tension in her shoulder and her ramrod posture showed the struggle in her mind. Slowly and methodically her eyes swept over the carnage as if searching for survivors.

Mackie's chair was empty. Wet retching noises from the bathroom marked the teen's reaction well enough.

The sound of rotors whipping through the air brought Chaz's attention back to the screen in time to see four ADP Fire-Bees skim over a side rooftop and sweep into the area.

Moving more cautiously than the Hornet, the four one-man choppers slowly circled the area looking for the battle boomers.

The scene was silent except for the sounds of the dying. The survivors, if any, in the buildings were the ones who had quickly learned not to draw attention to themselves. The boomers almost seemed to have disappeared.

Without warning a particle beam lanced out from an upper story window blowing the closest Fire-Bee into a flaming chunk of falling debris.

The reaction from the other pilots was instantaneous. They pulled back, their helmet slaved tri-barrel cannons firing round after round of ammunition into the shattered window. The heavy concrete wall melted away under the furious onslaught like sugar in the rain.

Linna gasped and Chaz caught sight of the other boomer on the roof behind the pilots. The urge to scream a warning to the already deceased pilots built in him as he watched the boomer take to the air.

Moving slowly through the air, the boomer rose above the rearmost chopper and simply turned off its flight pack. Like a rock deprived of its support the heavy boomer dropped through the doomed chopper's rotors, the blades breaking against the thick armor. Not even bothering to finish the falling pilot, the boomer reignited its flight pack turned its attention on the nearest target.

The two remaining copters fled, the second pounding away at the attacking boomer with its 20MM shells. The boomer, nearly knocked from the air by the assault, dove away from the attacking copter in an attempt to regain its stability. The attacking copter swept around in an attack pattern its heavy gun unerringly tracking the boomer down.

Chaz heard Sylia's soft 'No' of denial before the attacking copter passed in front of the half destroyed window and was picked off by a hail of red laser blasts from the still operational boomer inside.

The remaining Fire-Bee had had enough. Turning tail it ran. Inside the heavily damaged building Chaz saw a shadow shift and a line of fiery smoke erupted from the apartment. The copter swerved wildly to no avail. The missile slammed home in a burst of flame that consumed most of the machine before it hit the pavement below.

Both boomers dropped nimbly to the ground and entered the train terminal; the only building left in view that remained largely untouched. As the killing machines entered some of the crowd of refugees broke from the windows and began a mad dash to safety. The boomers let those who jumped go concentrating instead on the crowds of people still trapped inside. Soon the initial flood died away and people stopped coming out of the windows. The screams and laser fire soon built to a crescendo and then died out. Explosions began to rock building, as the rampaging boomers destroyed with their particle beams what they couldn't with their claws. At the entrance a puddle of blood quickly expanded and began to make it's way toward the stairs.

In the distance, slightly above the sound of the explosions Chaz could hear the sounds of sirens coming closer. Unfortunately so could the boomers. The sounds of particle beam and laser fire died away as the sirens got closer. One of the boomers broke away from the train terminal and ran into the building across the way.

Tires squealing, the heavy, six-wheeled armored personnel carriers came to abrupt, J-turn stops. Leon's voice erupted over the vehicles PA system as the troopers began to unload. His requests for the civilians to leave the area were met only by the crackling of the numerous fires and the occasional popping sound of burning ammunition as the downed ADP aircraft continued to blaze. Even some of the battle-hardened veterans of the ADP were obviously appalled at the destruction. Leon could be seen donning tac-armor and pulling his "Stomach" gun from his parked pursuit car. Daley was helping a couple of troopers off-load and setup the Gerlich squeeze-bore while two other troopers loaded and checked their rocket launchers. Everywhere ADP troopers could be seen loading their M42-A1s. Magazine after magazine was laid out for easy grabbing.

Chaz watched with admiration as the ADP spread out with near-perfect precision. Even knowing they were out-gunned they were going to try. What made it bad was that Chaz already knew how this had ended. He'd stepped over and sometimes on the bodies of some of the men he was seeing. Given the outcome he didn't think they would have minded.

The troopers hadn't quite finished spreading out before the boomers made the first move. The one that had ducked into the half-destroyed building stepped out into the open and opened fire. A few troopers went down fast, their armor too weak to stop the high-powered blasts. Immediately came the return fire. Shot after shot rained down on the armored monstrosity. Quicker on the draw than the Gerlich, one of the troopers swung around his rocket launcher and let fly.

The rocket streaked towards its target only to have it disappear back into the building. With a deafening roar the explosive warhead impacted on the concrete wall. With a groan the abused wall partially collapsed sealing the hole the boomer had entered. Most of the ADP kept their weapons trained on where they had last seen the boomer. They were unprepared though for the second boomer's entrance into the fray. Skimming at its highest speed the second boomer dashed across the war torn area it laser blasts seeking out the two rocket launchers. The ensuing explosion ripped a hole in the ADPs ranks and the confusion kept most from getting more than a shot or two off. Leon managed to get his railgun into position fast enough and with a three sharp sonic cracks the heavy weapon spat its walnut sized loads.

The scene jounced a little as the two of the three rounds slammed into the building where the camera sat. The third seemed to strike dead on. In mid-flight the boomer dropped like a stone its heavy body tearing up the pavement and mangling the dead bodies it landed on. Machine-gun fire began to dance around the downed boomer in a hail that chewed up the pavement surrounding the beast.

Chaz began to shake his head. The squeeze-bore cannon might have been able to hurt one of those things but he'd used one of those "Stomach" railguns. They didn't have the power to put something like that down. It was becoming obvious why the ADP was losing. They were outgunned; out armored and the damn things were actually thinking about what they were doing. ADP was used to a stand up fight not these kind of guerrilla tactics. As if summoned by his thoughts the second boomer choose that instant to finish digging itself out of the concrete. The second boomer bounced to its feet and flew for the cover of a building narrowly avoiding the shot from the Gerlich that exploded the ground behind it. Moving quickly the now unencumbered boomer took a few pot shots at the ADP and also disappeared.

Shaken but still determined the remaining troops kept a careful watch on the building. More than a few were edging their way towards the troop transports in the obvious hope that the heavy armor could offer some cover. Almost a minute passed and the troopers got more disturbed by the second. Leon was beginning to wave the troops towards further cover when the final attack came. With a crash of armor on pavement first one than the other boomer dropped into the midst of the troops. In a handful of seconds bodies were ripped to shreds. Discipline vanished under the vicious offense. The troopers just wanted AWAY. Not many of them made it. The combat became a blur of torn bodies and sporadic gunfire. Many troops tried to take cover behind a troop transport. Leon dove for cover behind his pursuit car as one of the boomers paused long enough to blow the transport up with a missile.

The footage paused and the reports voice came back on. "The leader of the doomed AD-Police patrol Lt. Leon McNichol and his partner Lt. Daley Wong are listed as being in critical condition at Tokyo General. They are the only survivors of the initial patrol. Lt. Wong is not expected to live through the night."

A single tear dropped from Pisses eye before she caught Chaz looking. With a quick sniff and swipe the tear disappeared and her stare defied him to say anything.

The footage resumed as the truck finished exploding. Grayish shadows swept across the burning battlefield as two K-12 armored troopers airdropped into the area. They opened fire from the air and continued until they hit the ground. Most of the shots missed completely. With the same frightening nimbleness they'd demonstrated earlier, the boomers avoided them. The few that hit did no apparent damage. The boomers decided to play a little this time.

Linna looked away. She'd watched this part on the previous broadcast and couldn't bear to watch it again.

The boomers charged the two K-12s. They first boomer picked one up and threw it at a building. Turning from it's partner it sprang at the downed trooper. Sylia gasped. Priss looked sick. Mackie, just returning from the bathroom, was forced to look away. The man's screams cut even through even the crackle of the fire and the background explosions. Pieces of bloody armor flew everywhere. The screaming seemed to last forever though it couldn't really have been much longer than a minute. The bloody clawed boomer turned to watch as its cohort finished its prey. This man didn't suffer as long fortunately. After pulling off the armored troopers arms the boomer punched its hand through the faceplate and fired its arm-mounted lasers. The discharge erupted from the back of the armor spraying cooked brains and blood into the air.

The reports voice came back on. "The two armored troopers names as well as the rest of the squadron have been withheld at this time pending notification of their families."

Playtime finished, the two boomers resumed their destructive work. The few cars and taxis that remained were tossed at the surrounding buildings and the boomers fired blast after blast at everything in the area. The camera shook slightly and tilted as the building it was in took several shots. A noise like a huge vacuum swept from one speaker to the other. The KnightWing was passing overhead.

Chaz, clad in his Guyver III armor, dropped in from behind the camera and landed on the field. The first boomer dodged a sparkling beam from the blue hardsuit as its partner, partially hidden by the rumble and smoke, slammed the dark hard-suit with a particle beam. The camera seemed to lose focus as the hardsuit began a series of dodges and leaps firing with every jump in the middle and upon landing. The sparkling beams seemed to be doing more visible damage than the K-12s had done but not anywhere near enough to stop them. Small burns in the armor seemed to seal as fast as they were inflicted.

The blue armor leaped and whirled in a series of dodges that were nothing less than phenomenal. Sometimes escaping a particle beam or laser spray by no more than inches. Then the hardsuit slowed as it dodged another barrage.

Both boomers closed in for the kill. As the lead boomer leveled its lasers at the slowly moving hardsuit its partner popped its missile-ports. Suddenly the lead boomer blew up. From the camera's position it looked like the attack came from the dark blue hardsuit. What had seemed an unstoppable menace dropped to the ground with most of its head and body missing. The explosion caught both the second boomer and the hardsuit kicking both into the air. The remaining boomer recovered immediately and launched its missiles. Chaz winced. This is where it had started to go bad. The missiles impacted. And knocked the hardsuit off camera.

The footage paused as the reporter continued his voice over. "The following scene was created by enlarging the image recorded on the tape. We apologize for the graininess."

The scene narrowed zooming in on the hardsuit as it stood up. It gripped at its face for a moment then tore away its helmet. The scene narrowed even further as it zoomed in on the face. Oh Shit. He'd been wearing his habitual face! If anyone should see it. . .

The voice-over continued. "This Knight Saber, who had already managed to take down one of the rampaging boomers, didn't give up. Memorize his face. He died a hero."

Who was this reporter and who wrote his dialogue? Chaz hung his head in disgust. Great. Just what he didn't need people doing. Typical sensationalist reporting. The media loved heroes, particularly dead ones.

The footage snapped back to normal speed and distance. Chaz came running out of the rubble. He continued to fire his sparkling beams as the boomer calmly leveled its lasers. In the foreground a red suit of heavy armor swept across the camera. Its large thrusters washing out the sound of the lasers firing. When the scene returned the blue hardsuit was down, its head missing. The boomer was staggering under the fire from the heavy gun the red armor carried. Cracks began to appear that didn't seal. Spinning desperately, the hurt machine lashed out with its lasers. The few shots that missed slammed into the building knocking the camera over.

The reporter reappeared against the blazing background. "Reports we've received have enabled us to reconstruct the aftermath. Smoke from the fires largely precluded satellite pictures of the fight though some footage has been obtained from our news satellite. The following scene has been computer generated from both."

The footage resumed with almost no loss in clarity. Mackie struggling with the boomer. Priss and Linna's arrival. Priss's overhead shot as Linna distracted it. Except in this scene Priss shots stopped the boomer. Mackie picked up the cannon and blew two holes through the boomers chest.

The reporter reappeared. "So the question remains. Who are the remaining Knight Sabers? Are they heroes or vigilantes? Our experts say that it would have taken USSD at least another half-hour to mobilize sufficient forces to halt the rampage. AD-Police has been dealt a blow from which it will be long recovering. In our report tomorrow we will explore the public's reaction to this tragedy." Linna turned off the TV.

For a long time only silence was heard in the room as each watcher tried to assimilate what they'd seen.

Sylia turned to Chaz. "I thought you were going to change that face."

Chaz shrugged. "It's the one I was born with. I kept thinking of reasons to put off changing it. I suppose I HAVE to now." He reached down and removed the fiber-optic connection. "What do we do now?" He asked in his normal voice.

On the opposite side of the world that question had already been asked and answered. The limo screeched through the open gate and onto the field. The doors flew open as Kou, Irene, and Reika jumped out. Kou reached back in to the car and helped Mr. Chang out as the two sisters raced for the jet idling on the runway. For the third time in fifteen years a member of the family was dead and boomers were responsible. Mr. Chang wasn't angry: he was raging. He smelled a GENOM plot. Quincy was behind this., no matter what the news said.

Kou lifted the old man into the plane and strapped both of them in. Mr. Chang sat quietly and thought. Both Kou and Irene had been quite taken with the young man. Kou's only bad report had indicated that he was very heavily cybered. Mr. Chang had shrugged it off. It was an asset in that line of work. He'd never even met the man he'd accepted as a son. But he'd gone out like a true member of the Hou Bang, fighting every step of the way. It was time he met the members of this band that had so affected his Irene.

Since she'd returned she had been obsessed. She'd absorbed the basics of self-defense from Kou in under two weeks. Mr. Chang had lived a long time and he'd never seen someone so focused. The leader of this band must be special indeed. Still thinking, Mr. Chang braced for the takeoff. He would be meeting her in six hours. The plane had clearances for super-sonic flight across the Pacific. It had cost him almost a million dollars but that was money well spent in his opinion. Closing his eyes the chairman of the Chang Conglomerate tried to imagine what his opposite number was thinking.

Quincy sat in his office and watched the fires slowly being put out. He had been in his office for over twenty hours now. His normally immaculate suit was wrinkled and his tie lay on the desk. The aging executive rubbed his hand through his silver hair in frustration. The Chairman of GENOM Enterprises was not amused.

Reaching out he pressed the intercom button. "Where is Ms. Madigan?" He listened to the reply. "I don't care who she's in bed with. I want her here in fifteen . . . no, ten minutes." He took his finger off the intercom. Madigan lived in GENOM tower like most of the executives. If she valued her place in the company she would be here. Quincy turned back to watch the flames. Damn Mason. The fool didn't realize what he had done. The Knight Sabers had only been a nuisance before, now they would be intolerable. He had ordered Mason to kill ALL of them to prevent this.

The other news he had heard was worse. Quincy wasn't used to setbacks. He hadn't suffered a serious one in nearly a decade. Yet here he was calling in favors! Him! And still he couldn't seem to avert what was coming. He swore and wished he could still drink. Mason was going to pay for this. He heard a knock on his door. He straightened quickly; he hadn't realized he had gotten so distracted. "Come."

Madigan entered the office. She was dressed in a silk robe and nothing else. When the Chairman said ten minutes that's what he meant. Trying to ignore her state of undress she stood straight and reported. "Yes sir." Quincy's dark eyes skipped over her. That was when she realized for the first time, she had ALWAYS been naked under those eyes. They didn't care about the state of her attire. They read her soul as accurately as a scale could read her weight. She almost collapsed when his gaze moved away and he began to speak.

"Madigan. Have you seen the news?" he asked in a deceptively calm voice.

Madigan thought furiously. She'd allowed herself to become distracted by a handsome face. She vowed silently to never allow it to happen again. "No sir. I was otherwise occupied." She didn't bother to ask what she'd missed or explain why she wasn't on top of things. She knew he'd tell her what he needed her to know. He obviously knew and didn't care about the other. He turned his blazing eyes upon her again.

"Look out the window Madigan," he said in a voice so calm Madigan quailed.

She looked and blanched. It looked like a quarter of the city was aflame.

"This is due to Mason." Quincy's grave voice snapped out. "He arranged the release of two of USSD's HTR class boomers. This. . ." he waved at the window, "is the result."

Madigan was aghast. "Why?" Quincy smiled like a demon about to feast. Madigan quailed.

"He thought he could do a large number of things with this assault. Its primary purpose was, undoubtedly, to destroy the Knight Sabers and in this it partially succeeded. One of the Knight sabers lies dead. The second was that it would clear the land for the Technological Integration Project. In this it also succeeded. The people who used to live on this land will certainly never return." He grinned humorlessly and briefly before he continued. "He also managed to place the blame on USSD for the whole affair further discrediting that thorn in our side."

Madigan thought about it. Then why was the Chairman so upset? Something had been missed. She thought about it some more. He'd only killed one. The rest were going to be even more of a problem than before. That's the only problem she could fathom. "I don't see it." She didn't bother to apologize. The Chairman rarely accepted them anyway.

Quincy looked down at his underling. "Mason misjudged the public's reaction. There was a videotape of the conflict." He tossed a copy at Madigan's feet. "In it the Knight Saber who died appears as a hero. Moreover, the face is that of someone we know." He flipped on the Multiviewer. The face came into sharp focus. "This is a face that Mason was supposed to have already taken care of." Madigan gasped she not only recognized it she'd seen the body laid out on a slab! Chaz's face stared back from the screen. "GENOM's media control was too slow to prevent AIC from showing the tape. It is also too late to change the spin on the story though they are attempting to anyway." He waved it away. "I received word that the national assembly had an emergency meeting. Despite heavy bribes I wasn't able to ascertain the substance of the meeting until it was too late. The assembly in a fit of uncharacteristic haste has voted to turn the area of the attack into a memorial park. The announcement has already gone out to the media." He brought up a map on the Multiviewer. "This is where the park will go."

Madigan nodded. Now she understood. The park, though small, was in the center of the proposed next step of the Technological Integration Project that was to be put before the assembly next week. Mason had just destroyed five years work at worst, seriously compromised it at best.

"I also have reason to believe that the chairman of the Chang Conglomerate has left retirement to meet with the Knight Sabers. Apparently he regarded the savior of his granddaughter with some favor. Before he might have helped them in small ways, striving to keep his corporation out of a direct struggle. I do not think he will be so leniently inclined anymore." Quincy paused to let the magnitude of this sink in. "I want Mason in here in a hour," He decreed. His voice dropped and became much more graveled as his anger leaked through his control. "More specifically I want his head here in a hour." Madigan nodded and left. Mason was as good as dead.

Quincy turned back to the window. He had much work to do. This small nuisance was growing into a major problem. It was time for the Knight Sabers to learn what it meant to take on the might of GENOM.

Mason drove through the torrential rain. His informants had informed him of the old man's decision seconds after he'd made it. Now Mason was running for his life. He had to get down to the lab before Madigan's people found him. He'd been so wrapped up in his success he hadn't updated the engram. If he didn't he could flush his immortality down the drain. Just a little farther. All he had to do was make it to Flint's lab. Reaching down he pulled a gun from the glove compartment. He couldn't afford to take chances. Screeching to a stop he jumped from the still running car and ran through the doors to the research center. No boomers on guard duty. Strange. Ignoring the alarms that began to go off in the back of his head Mason raced through the hallway and down the stairs. He quickly punched his code into the lock. He'd made it. He ducked in and slammed the door behind him. He turned around. Madigan was sitting on top of the engram recorder in a silk nightgown.

Madigan calmly leveled a gun at his head. "Step away from the door and drop the gun Mason." She honestly was surprised when he did it. "I found out about this project two days ago. I was tempted to just destroy it. Instead I'm going to let you use it before I take your head to the Chairman." Mason remained silent. His trump card had been played and taken. "I examined the body you had created for yourself. Nice. Used a nano-tank for the whole thing didn't you?" Mason didn't bother to answer. She smiled. "I destroyed it of course. I'm going to give you a much different body. If you want a better one you're going to have to find the dead Knight Saber. He has the body you stole from me." She waved Mason towards the engram replicator.

Mason knew he'd lost. He walked to the machine and sat down. After the machine had recorded his thought patterns Madigan put a bullet in his brain. Fifteen minutes later Madigan placed the head on Quincy's desk. Fifty-eight minutes from the time of the order.

Chaz sat in front of the mirror. "How's that?" He asked the watching Knight Sabers.

A frown crossed Priss's face as she studied the change. "I don't like the eye color," She finally judged.

"The hair's wrong," Sylia added.

"What about darkening the skin and making the eyelids epicanthic?" Linna put in.

Chaz had been making adjustments to his face for half an hour and was ready to scream with frustration. Note to myself: NEVER go shopping with these women. They seemed unable to agree on any of the faces that he'd produced. "This is the last change ladies." Concentrating, he forced his still healing flesh to undergo one final alteration. Slowly his skin turned several shades darker to a deep even bronze. His hair grew long and blonde as his eyes took on an impossible silver-gold color. The face grew hard and broad. "How's that?" he asked his critics.

Smiles broke out across every face as they regarded him. "Sugoi!" they said in unison.

"Thank god," Chaz said as he dropped head into his arms. /Make this face the 'Default'./

-No problem.- Came the cheerful reply from his AI. -You look cute like that.-

'Nene is going to have some explaining to do when she wakes up,' Chaz thought bitterly.

Priss stood and eyed him appraisingly. "What about the rest?" She gazed at his body pointedly. After all she had a special interest in the proceedings. "You going to make it match or what?"

Chaz sighed. He had definitely had better days. "Give me a break Priss. This isn't as easy as it looks you know." Actually it was easier. After months of practice he was beginning to get a real feel for how his directed nanite system worked. He was just tired of the argument. Concentrating he made his body skin match his face. "Better?"

Priss laughed. "Look in the mirror and you tell me."

Chaz looked. She was right. It did look ridiculous. His now much broadened head sat on a body that was at least a size too small. He quickly enlarged his chest arms and abdomen to match his new face. Great. Now I look like Doc Savage with long hair. /Begin fill in procedures on the new volume./

-Sure. Fill in will take two point six days with an over all increase in strength of point four two. It will require 2.46 kilos . . .-

/Tell me later okay/

/Okay./

Linna held her hands against her heart in a fake swoon. "Be still my heart. What a hunk."

Sylia nodded judiciously. "A vast improvement. More importantly you look nothing like you used to." Which had been the whole point. There was going to be another drop in the KSBB field's efficiency but his armor would cover for some of that. She still wasn't sure what to do about Nene yet. She obviously couldn't go back to her old life. She'd already broke in to ADP's computer and left a tapeworm to erase all files on the redhead. Not that they needed it. The Nene Romanova that worked at ADP had been an electronic fiction to start with.

Mackie lounged in living room. The lingerie shop was due to open in fifteen minutes, so he really should start moving that way soon. A knock came on the back door interrupting his reverie. Leaning over in his chair he punched up the door monitor. He fell out of his chair. Shit! He reached up and hit the outer door buzzer.

Back in Raven's the female Knight Sabers had surrounded Chaz. They were viciously and maliciously giving unwanted fashion advise to the hapless Chaz. He really didn't see why he needed to change his wardrobe. Lots of people wore black T-shirts and jeans. "What about Leon? He seems to get along just fine like that." He immediately regretted the quip. Leon still was listed as being in critical condition.

Linna ignored the slip and poked him in the chest, nearly breaking a nail. "You're supposed to change completely remember? Besides, with that body you should really go for something like a skin tight bodysuit." Yum!

Priss looked over at Linna. She was practically drooling for god's sake! "Maybe something in leather? A nice bikers jacket, would let you blend in better with the crowd."

Chaz cast appealing eyes on his boss. "Please help me out of this," he pleaded.

Sylia smiled. "You're right. We have been picking on you." Her smile spread into a mischievous grin. "Besides I think it's obvious that you belong in an Armani suit." At that all three women started to laugh.

Chaz shook his head in mock horror. "No! Never! Not that!" The buzzing of the intercom interrupted him.

Sylia walked over to the video pickup. "Yes Mackie. What is it?" In the background Chaz was muttering something about the horror of it all while dodging blows from his colleagues.

Mackie's face appeared on the screen. "Sis, I think you better come back to the shop. We have guests."

Sylia frowned. "Guests?" Who the hell would . . . "Let them wait in the meeting room. We'll be right there." She broke the connection. "Grab your coats. We have to go back to the shop," she told the others. She looked enigmatically at Chaz. "Your father has come to pay his respects to the dead."

Chaz and Priss pulled up in the driveway behind Sylia's car. They had stayed under the speed limit to avoid attracting attention. Chaz dragged the helmet off awkwardly. They had bought it when he wore his old face. The new head didn't fit so nicely. Rearranging his squished features he followed the others upstairs.

Mackie's nerves were shot. Irene had been VERY insistent about talking to Sylia immediately. He'd tried to explain that he'd already called them. Irene hadn't wanted to wait. She wanted to be taken to pay her last respects to Chaz. Mackie had almost laughed at that point. THAT was why they were here? He'd smiled and told them that Chaz would be very happy to hear that; in retrospect that had been a mistake. Everyone, including the people Kou had introduced as Irene's sister and grandfather, had jumped on that line. He'd been adamant. He could tell them nothing until the others arrived. At which time they wouldn't need the answers from him anyway.

Mackie gave an audible sigh of relief as the others walked up from the garage. At least he thought that was Chaz. The shirt and pants looked the same even if they were a little small. He stood. "Sis, May I introduce the Chang family; Mr. Chang, his granddaughter Reika and the family retainer Kou. You already know Irene." Sis already knew who the rest were too, of course but it paid to be polite.

Sylia extended her hand to shake Mr. Changs hand. "I'm pleased to meet you. I'm just sorry that you came here for such a reason." She smiled. "Now if you'll allow me I'll introduce my family." She waved them forward. "Unfortunately one of our members won't be joining us."

Obviously, thought Irene, he had his head blown off. Why don't any of them seem to be depressed about it? Who is that guy? And where was Nene? Her mind whirling she almost missed Sylia's next statement.

Sylia continued. "These are Linna Yamazaki, Priss Asagiri, and your adopted son Charles S. Stitman."

Complete silence reigned for almost a minute before Irene exploded. "What do you mean by that? I watched it on the video. Chaz's head was blown off. You don't get up and walk away from that."

Kou stood up next to her. "I'm afraid I must agree. Ms. Stingray, this joke is in very poor taste."

Mr. Chang sat quietly. This Stingray woman didn't seem the type to joke so callously. But, he too had seen the video. What is she up to? Was the video a fake? It was certainly possible. Video technology had progressed to the point that it could no longer be used as evidence at criminal trails. Deciding to remain in the background for now he allowed his granddaughter to control the conversation for now.

Chaz stepped forward and smiled down at Kou and Irene. "You're right. You don't get up and walk away from that." His face writhed and changed back to his old one for a moment. "In my case I had to be carried." He smiled. "You forgot, didn't you Irene?" He said as he undid the bandanna covering the hole in his head.

Irene stared up at the stranger in front of her. Chaz alive? She tentatively reached out and touched his skin. A faint thrill ran up her arm. "Oh Chaz!" She threw an arm around him and started sobbing. "You bastard! Why didn't you call and tell me?" Using her free hand she beat on his chest in frustration.

Chaz ignored Priss's angry stare as he put his arms around Irene. "I'm sorry Irene, I didn't mean to frighten you. It was a pretty near thing. I would have called you if I had been able to."

Mr. Chang had seen enough. "Irene get away from it." The bitterness in his voice was painful to hear. He directed his glare fully onto his daughters bodyguard, "Kou you said he was heavily cybered. You did NOT say he was a boomer."

Kou was still in shock. "I'm sorry sir I didn't know. I. . ." He didn't know what to say. This was obviously Chaz in front of him. A man he both respected and admired. A boomer.

Chaz was hurt. "I. . . I thought you knew. Kou asked me if Irene knew. I assumed from the question he'd guessed." He hadn't expected this kind of reaction. "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding sir."

"Irene! I said stand away from it!" Mr. Chang was furious, his body trembling with a rage it could scarcely contain. How dare these people try to pass off a boomer as human! Forcing himself to his feet he faced his granddaughter. "Irene!"

Irene slowly relaxed her hold on Chaz and turned to face her grandfather. "Why should I grandfather?" Her voice came out as smooth as silk and as cold as dry ice. Sitting on the couch Reika shuddered and inched slightly away from the conversation. She'd never heard her little sister use that tone of voice to anyone before.

Kou slowly backed up. This was between the two of them. He couldn't get involved. More importantly he didn't want to. It wouldn't be healthy. In the past month Irene had forced herself to learn martial arts at a phenomenal rate. Kou could probably beat her. But, not without hurting her. And being hurt, he admitted.

Mr. Chang was almost apoplectic. With a visible effort he reined in his temper. "Irene, this thing," he waved at Chaz, "is nothing less than a GENOM built assassin, even less human than those bastards that killed your parents." Why could she not see it?

Chaz backed off, hurt to his core. He didn't want to be at the center of this argument. He realized that what was happening now was going to have VERY large repercussions in their family.

Irene moved to continue standing next to him. "This MAN has done more for me and our family than ANYONE ever has. Three times he has put his own life on the line to save mine. He accepted humiliation at Kou's hands rather than put me in danger. You SAW for yourself the lengths he will go to help others." She paused. "He has shown more self-sacrifice for strangers than the Hou Bang has ever shown. Yet you dare tell me that those are not the actions of a man?" Every word was coming out clipped and soft. Despite that, they seemed to be hitting the elder Chang with visible impacts. "If that's the case than I am forced to admit that I don't know what YOUR definition of a man entails."

Her eyes began to fill despite her rage. "When I was lost and mourning for Can he comforted me." Her voice softened and the anger left it. "I love him grandfather." She saw his face begin to harden. "Not as a lover, but as the brother I have never had." She reached out and grasped the old man's hand. "When you thought him human you eagerly welcomed him to the family. I ask you to judge him as you have told me to judge people: on his actions and character, not on the body he wears."

Mr. Chang fell back onto the sofa. For several minutes silence reigned in the room. Twice Sylia had to reach out to restrain Priss. Finally the elder Chang looked up. "Irene, my dear. The hardest thing for an old man to do is to admit he made a mistake. You are right. For the first time in years you see me in my shame." Refusing Kou's help he struggled to his feet once again and walked over to Chaz. "My son . . . I apologize. I had not realized how far my hatred and prejudice had gone until my granddaughter showed me my face in a mirror." With a shaking arm he extended his hand. "Please forgive me."

With solemn dignity Chaz took the hand. Despite his apparent age the elder Changs grip was still strong. "There is nothing to forgive. I had much the same reaction when I found out what I was." He smiled. "And you should have seen Priss' reaction." He paused slightly. "She pulled a gun on me." He laughed. After a moment Mr. Chang joined in as Priss protested.

Several hours and bottles of wine later the conversation had died down a bit. The topics had been kept carefully innocuous, dealing with the Knight Sabers daily life, Irene's neuro-surgery and Vision's upcoming concerts. Mr. Chang waved Chaz over. "You really must tell me what you meant when you said 'When I found out what I was.' Didn't you always know?" Chaz proceeded to tell what had happened to him, leaving out only his extra-dimensional origin.

A deep chuckle followed by a short cough trickled out of the head of the Hou Bang triad. "So GENOM has played god once again and lost this time." The old man smiled up at Chaz and waved off a concerned Kou. "You are destined to be a true thorn in their side son."

Chaz shrugged it off. "At the Knight Sabers best we only seem to be a major irritation. And please call me Chaz." 'My son.' and like phrases were beginning to make him distinctly uncomfortable. He thought about that for a moment. "You enjoy playing the aging Chinaman to the hilt don't you?"

Mr. Chang looked embarrassed then smiled. "Caught. I'm afraid that over the years I fell into the speech patterns that people seemed to expect. Then you must call me by my given name." Reika and Irene looked up and giggled. Kou looked embarrassed. "Chongk. But my friends call my Chin."

Chaz thought about it. His name is Chin Chang? He aborted a movement to drop his head to his hands and laugh. I wonder who slapped THAT nickname on him. At least he's got a sense of humor about it. "I would be honored. Chin." Priss smiled and looked ready to make a comment when Linna gave her an elbow in her ribs.

"As for the other matter would I be correct in assuming that you are constrained mainly by a lack of resources?" Chin asked sipping his wine and looking out from under his glasses.

Chaz looked up. "I really don't know what our constraints are. Sylia runs the Knight Sabers. I'm just a grunt." He looked around. Sylia was in deep discussion with Irene and Kou. "I really can't tell you much about the Knight Sabers outside of what you already know. Those secrets aren't mine to give."

Chin nodded understandingly. "Of course. I would, however, like to ask your advice on another matter." His voice dropped to a whisper. "When a new person joins the family, the way you and your friends have, it is a Hou Bang tradition to give them a gift. I would like your opinion of what would be appropriate."

Chaz thought about it. "Linna and Priss are easy. Priss wants to try singing professionally. But she's been blacklisted in Japan because of her opposition to GENOM. Linna would like to get back into dancing. Her career was cut short because she didn't fit the textbook figure of a dancer." He thought some more. "Nene, the Knight Saber who couldn't make it, is in trouble. In order to save me they had to publicly pull her out of her job. I don't know what you could do. But, she's going to need some serious help. As for Sylia and Mackie," he shrugged, "I have no idea." He smiled. Well, maybe I know what Mackie would like, he thought, watching the teen trying to move closer to Reika.

Chin looked up at Chaz. "I will think on a gift for Miss Stingray. But you have not asked for anything for yourself," he noted.

Chaz cringed. "To be honest what I want is impossible. Even my second choice would be far beyond what I could reasonably ask."

Chin looked up at him skeptically. "The first I can guess easily enough. You want to be human again?" Chaz nodded. "However I think you underestimate the Hou Bang's resources when you say you cannot ask for something. We are the single largest conglomerate in the US. I doubt there is much that is out of our reach." He smiled proudly.

Chaz didn't return the smile. "I want a nano-tank. If I can't go back to being human I intend to make GENOM pay, big time."

Chin was quiet for a moment. "You would normally be right. Such a thing is usually out of the question. But this is not a normal time." He smiled. "It so happens that GENOM is shipping its newest nano-tank to its US subsidiary next month. We have already made arrangements to . . .acquire it. It was intended to free the Chang conglomerate from a reliance on GENOM AIs. I think in this instance we can see fit to pass it on to you. This will help repay the great debt we owe you."

Chaz couldn't speak. Chin was offering to give him something that many governments didn't possess. Merely to repay a debt he felt he owed. According to his research there were fewer than thirty nano-tanks on the planet and maybe ten more in GENAROS International space station. Numbly Chaz nodded his head. How could he refuse?

Chin nodded as Sylia walked up. "Good. I think that will also help Miss Stingray with her own problems." Chin waved at Kou. "I'm sorry to leave so soon but I have to return to the US. Quincy is much too cunning an adversary to allow my absence to go to waste." Kou helped him to his feet. The old man once more extended his hand. "Please visit us soon." His voice dropped to a whisper. "And if you get the chance, bloody Quincy's nose for me." He smiled. "It has been indeed a pleasure meeting you all." He bowed. "Miss Stingray I wish you continued success in your campaign. If you need our assistance you may count on the Hou Bang." He looked back at Chaz. "By the way, where's the ring?"

Chaz smiled. He hadn't thought the old man would miss that. "It's difficult for me to wear in the hardsuit so I put it somewhere that's usually very safe." Tilting his head he reached into his mouth and retrieved the ring from the back of his sinus cavity. "I'm afraid the laser attack didn't completely miss it." He said as he extended the slightly scorched ring. "I didn't think I'd have to worry about it in there." He shrugged apologetically.

Chin took the ring examined it and handed it back. "I can see why you would consider that a safe place." He paused and put on a huge smile. "USUALLY." With a final laugh he waved good-bye. "Our family always takes care of its own. We'll be in touch." With that he and Kou stepped out the door.

Irene stepped up to Chaz. "You promised you'd visit. I'm going to hold you to that." She kissed him and followed Kou and Reika out.

Chaz sat down as the rest of the Knight Sabers finished off the wine. "Well, This has to have been one of the more interesting weekends of my life." He paused. "I wonder if next weekend will be better." The rest of the Knight Sabers promptly sprayed their wine.


	5. Chapter 5

Leon woke with a start and sat up. He immediately regretted it. Raw fire engulfed his chest and spread across his body. Falling back into his previous position hurt almost as much. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was the Knight Saber making an entrance. They must have managed to finish the job again. He sighed. Even that hurt. How many times had the Knight Sabers pulled the fat out of the fire in this city? Even before he saw them for the first time at the canyon, they had gotten a reputation in the AD-Police. A slow smile worked its way across the detectives face.

Where would AD-Police be without them? It had been silently agreed among most of the lower echelons that if the chance ever came to arrest one of the group, they would look the other way. Too many cops had gone home safe after being saved from a rogue boomer by the Knight Sabers. Leon looked around. Where was Daley? He was usually in here waiting for him to wake up. Leon smiled. With any luck his redheaded partner had finally managed to find somebody to shack up with. More likely his workload was too heavy to let him get away to see his partner. Still, flowers would have been nice. The door to the private room opened and a nurse walked in with a breakfast tray. Leon's eyes widened appreciably as they roved quickly over the nurses generous figure.

All business, the white clad beauty went straight to work. "So Mr. McNichol. Feeling better today?" she asked politely as she placed the tray on the table. She leaned forward as Leon began to answer, and shoved a vital sign tag in his mouth.

Leon put up with it. Only his expression gave away his disgust. Every time he'd gone to the hospital they'd stuck something in his mouth; even when they didn't have to. After a couple of seconds the tag beeped.

"That wasn't so bad was it?" she asked as she double-checked the information as it downloaded to her electronic pad.

Leon gave her a look. Then shrugged and reverted to his normal charming self. "So when am I going to get out of here?"

The nurse turned to look at him. "You'll get out when the doctor says you're well and not a minute before."

Leon leered. "Come here and we'll find out just how 'WELL' I am."

The nurse laughed. "I don't think so Mr. McNichol. I'm afraid you have something of a reputation in this hospital."

"Slanderous lies all of it," Leon quickly rejoined. "I never laid a hand on her, I wasn't even there and you can't prove anything anyway."

The nurse let out a peal of laughter, and then leaned over him in a seductive manner. "All of it? That's SO disappointing." She stood up suddenly. "Ah well. Another happy dream goes away." She quickly gathered up her pad and stylus. "I'll be back for your tray later Mr. McNichol."

Leon hurriedly gathered his wits. "Excuse me. Has my partner come by to check on me?"

The nurse paused at the door and didn't turn around. "No Mr. McNichol. Mr. Wong hasn't come by to see you," she said quietly and left.

Matter Over Mind Productions

Presents

Mega-Tokyo 2032

The Knight Sabers

"A Certain Point of View"

Chapter 5 "Repercussions"

Copyright (c) 2005 Charles S. Stitman

Four hours later, when the chief walked in, Leon was pushing the fine edge of extreme irritation. "Chief. What is it with everyone?" He asked before the older man could sit down. "Everyone is walking on eggshells around me. No one from work has so much as sent flowers. Why. . ." He ran down as he looked at his boss. It seemed like he'd aged a century since the last time Leon had seen him. His normal healthy brown was underlined with gray and his eyes were red. "Jesus chief. You look like you should be in here. What the hell happened?"

The chief stared out the window. "There's talk about shutting down the AD-Police Leon," He said quietly. "The disaster with the HTRs has led certain people to the assumption that we cannot handle the job." He wearily looked back to Leon. "The reason no one has come to see you is that most of the people in AD-Police have been busy helping families get ready for funerals. We lost over a hundred men in that attack. Not to mention the wounded. We're still counting the civilian casualties."

Leon looked at the old man before him. This is the same man who had started AD-Police. This is the man that butted heads with Leon daily. Daley! "Chief... Even if everyone else was busy I would still have thought Daley at least would come by." The chief's sad eyes made Leon's heart go cold. "No," It was a denial. He was the one who got hurt. Daley never got hurt. Leon slowly began to shake his head back and forth. "No."

The chief turned back to the window. "He died last night Leon," The chief said sadly. "One of the boomers apparently snapped his spine and cracked his skull." He sighed. "We found him in an alley near the attack. He never had a chance."

Leon held it together. It was what Jeena and Daley would have expected of him. "Who's assigned to the investigation?" he asked.

The chief looked up. "No one is."

"What?"

The wearied chief shrugged. "The boomers were identified as belonging to USSD. They have their own investigation running." He paused. "That's about as much as I know. I was put on suspension pending my own review."

Leon looked at the chief puzzled. "What are you being investigated for?"

"Incompetence." The chief's expression changed to one of pure rage. "Those bastards in the assembly wanted to put your head on the block! They needed a scapegoat so that this wouldn't affect their reelection chances! When I wouldn't sign the papers asking for an investigation they threatened me."

Leon nodded. He knew where that had gotten them. Nowhere. The chief was impossible to intimidate. He would rather die than give in on a principle. "So what happens now?"

The chief shrugged. "Not much. After the investigation I'll be fired. If AD-Police survives the upset they'll put some political appointee in my place." He smiled. "We did have one surprise though. You know that girl in the computer section, Nene?"

Leon nodded again. "Sure. Cute kid. Little raw though."

The chief started laughing. "A little raw he says." He laughed so hard he couldn't talk for a couple seconds.

Leon stared. "What's so damn amusing?" How could he find any of this mess funny?

The chief sat up and straightened his glasses. "She's a member of the Knight Sabers. After the fight they came and collected her. No one knows why."

Nene? Little redheaded Nene? "You're kidding me."

The chief shook his head. "Nope. That's one of the arguments that they will be using in the investigation against me." He smiled again. "It's almost worth it. We always wondered how they seemed to know when we were in over our heads."

Leon thought he got it. "You mean whenever she was on duty she was feeding information to her partners?"

The dark-skinned man cleaned his glasses and checked them carefully before putting them back on. "Yup." It was obvious looking back. They had to have someone inside. "You should see those IA boys. They're going apeshit. Seems after she left someone dumped a tapeworm into the system. All the computer information on her has been erased and the backups have disappeared."

Leon smiled. That sounded like Nene. "So what do WE do now?"

The chief smacked the bed with his open palm. "WE don't do anything. I went to a lot of effort to keep you in AD-Police." He sighed. "They're going to need some continuity." He looked up at Leon. "Don't screw this up Leon." There was a long pause before he changed the subject. "Docs say you'll be out of here in a couple of days. Daley's funeral is Thursday. Don't miss it." He got up to leave.

"Chief. I'm sorry about everything." Leon didn't want him to leave without knowing how much he respected the old man.

The chief looked down at him. "I know Leon. It's part of the job." He smiled. "It isn't over yet."

A week later it was over. The promised review had been laughable. The chief had been relieved of duty and dismissed with no pension. He'd saved AD-Police at the expense of his career. His words had proved prophetic. The same day he'd been removed, the assembly had decided that Okada Fujiura would replace him.

Leon walked into work. Daley's funeral had been very depressing. Very few people had shown up. Most of the people who had known him were in his squad when it was wiped out. Leon had been in the hospital for a few days before he woke up. By the time he'd gotten out most of the other funerals had already been held. Daley's had been delayed until he could attend. The chief had been true to his word though. No one had questioned Leon about anything. Probably already known what he was going to say anyway.

He stepped out of the elevator and into the office. The usual noise stopped, as everyone looked his way. He suppressed a flash of irritation. Great. Now he was a Jonah. Not bothering to look up Leon made his way to his desk and angrily punched up his computer. Slowly the office noise picked up again.

All right Leon, get a grip. With a shake he threw himself into his work. All his old cases had been reassigned while he was in the hospital. Until something new came up he was pretty much free. Leon smiled despite himself. That probably meant for the next hour or so. Say what you like about Mega-Tokyo. It's never boring. Hmm. He was supposed to interview with the new chief today. That wasn't going to be fun. He'd already heard about this guy at the funeral. A political pensioner if ever there was one. Leon wondered whos ass he'd kissed to get the job.

He was also supposed to go through Daley's personal effects. Only made sense Leon supposed. He and Daley had named each other as executors and primary recipients. Neither of them had any real family to speak of. Still, he wished he didn't have to do it. Sighing he got up to go deal with the new chief.

Nene woke up. Where was she? The last thing she remembered was seeing Chaz's body lying on the table. Then everything was a blur. She shook her head to clear it. "Don't do that. You might give yourself a headache," Said a clear, warm voice from the other side of the room. Nene squinted. Without her contacts she couldn't see in the dimness very well. A shadow detached itself from the wall and drifted over. Nene looked up into the face of the most gorgeous guy she'd ever seen, and screamed.

What was the matter? "Nene! Are you okay?" Chaz asked worriedly. "Do you want me to get Sylia?" He scanned her quickly. Her heart was racing and her adrenaline glands were opened all the way. If he didn't know better he'd swear she was scared to death.

"Who the hell are you?" Nene asked as she inched her hand towards the lamp on the table. "How do you know Sylia?" Her hand grasped the lamp. "Where the hell am I?" With a wrench she brought the lamp around, and watched as his hand snapped up to grab it.

Chaz smiled. So that's what was bothering her. She had him worried there. He changed back to his normal face for a moment. "Relax Nene. It's just me." If he'd thought the first scream was loud the second blew that idea away.

"Chaz is dead! I saw his body lying on the operating table." Nene was beginning to panic. It had caught the lamp with no effort. Had to be a boomer. . . Chaz WAS a boomer or close to it anyway. "Chaz?" She asked in a small voice.

Chaz smiled at the recognition in her voice. Finally. "Who else did you think it was?" Well, maybe he could forgive her. He still got spooked looking in the mirror. "I had to change my face. Someone got a video of the old one." He grinned. "You like it?"

Nene was stunned. "I remember seeing you dead. What happened?"

Chaz laughed. "You should know. You're the one that saved me."

Behind him Sylia dressed in her usual immaculate style walked in carrying a breakfast tray. "Now Chaz, I told you that there might be some short term memory loss." Sylia looked down at Nene as she placed the tray across the redhead's lap. "How are you feeling?"

Nene stared at her boss. "What do you mean short term memory loss? How much did I lose?"

Sylia shrugged. "Nothing serious. A couple of hours that's all. After you finished writing a program for Chaz you passed out. You've been unconscious for a few days now."

Nene gasped. A few days? "What happened that was so serious?"

Sylia smiled. "You did about two months programming in two hours, Nene. The high level of activity stripped your neurons of receptors for a while."

Two months? "What the hell did I write?" Must have been something huge.

Chaz reached down and held Nene's hand. "I was dying Nene. Without power I had about four hours to live. You created a control program for my fusion plant." He smiled gratefully. "I owe you big for that." His voice hardened slightly. "BUT, when you're better you and I are going to have a talk about the OTHER program you wrote for me."

Nene didn't like the sound of that. "The other program?"

Sylia stood. "Later Nene." She reached down to Chaz's shoulder. "Let her eat and rest for now Chaz. She'll be out in a couple of hours."

Chaz got up with a grimace. "Yes dear." With bad grace he walked out.

Sylia watched until she was sure he was out of earshot then sat back down. "You really don't remember?" She asked in an amused voice.

Nene shook her head as she finished her toast. "Uh Uh. Why? What did I do to him?"

Sylia tilted her head back and laughed. "You did yourself to him. You reprogrammed his AI with a personality overlay. Your personality."

Nene didn't know what to say. This was worse then when she'd gotten drunk and couldn't remember what she'd done the next day. "A personality overlay?" Oh God. No wonder he was upset.

"Don't let it worry you to much. I think he's getting used to it." Sylia smiled. "But, I wouldn't remind Priss. She told me that she feels like you're looking over his shoulder at times." She patted the teen's leg. "After you get showered and dressed we'll talk about what we're going to do next."

Nene walked into the meeting room a half hour later. The only people there were Sylia and Chaz. Nene looked around. "Where is everybody?"

Sylia waved her to the sofa. "There's just us right now Nene. Priss is making an audition tape and Linna is setting up to teach a combat dance class." She waited until Nene sat before continuing. "What we need to talk about is you."

"Me?" Then Nene remembered. Priss and Linna had come for her at AD-Police. "Oh Shit." Her shoulders slumped as the repercussions hit her.

Chaz nodded. "Exactly. Your old life is over." He smiled. "Or rather your second one is. Ready to go for number three?"

Nene sighed. "I was just getting used to AD-Police." She said wistfully. She looked at Sylia with resignation. "What about my records?"

"I dropped a tapeworm into the net. Any attempt to access information about you anywhere will result in that information being deleted," Sylia answered confidently. "Even if they try to bring information up from a backup it will just be erased again." That's if they ever managed to FIND the backups. Her sources in ADP said that most of them had disappeared. If GENOM had them. . .Well, they'd deal with that when it came up.

Nene thought about it for a moment. She could probably have done it better. She sighed. Still, she trusted Sylia to do a good job. "So what do we do now?"

Chaz patted her shoulder. "Same thing I have to. Start over. Both our faces are too well known." Chaz smiled. "For me it was easy. All I need now is a little new identification."

Sylia groaned. A little new identification he said. At least Nene knew what they had to go through to get the old ID. Hmm. No reason he couldn't still use it really. Just change the picture and name.

Nene smiled. Chaz was okay but he didn't have a clue what it took to generate new ID like that. "So what about me?"

Sylia hesitated. "Nene. Chaz is right. Your face is too well known. Even after we erase all the records of your old existence people will still remember. The question is: Do you want to stay in the Knight Sabers?"

Nene thought she saw what Sylia was leading to. "You mean change my face?"

Sylia nodded. "And hair, eyes and fingerprints. Everything."

Nene laughed. "Where do I sign?" She'd always wanted to get bio-plas surgery done. Even hair color could be permanently changed that way. Lot's of people had that done. The full procedure Sylia was talking about, however, was VERY expensive. "Can Priss and Linna help pick out the new me?"

"I don't see why not," Sylia said. "But they'll have to do it before you leave tomorrow."

"Why tomorrow?" Nene didn't understand why there was such a rush.

Chaz grinned. "That's when Mackie is flying you to the US to have the procedure done." Chaz's overactive imagination was already filling in what she and Mackie would do while they traveled. "The Hou Bang already offered to pick up the tab for the procedure. They also agreed to arrange an American ID for you." Linna had assured Chin that Nene would appreciate this. "They wanted to give you a welcoming present."

Nene gasped. That procedure cost tens of millions and the Tiger Corps were going to give it to her as a gift? Some gift! "Why an American ID?"

"They thought it might be a good idea to move your records out of Japan to lessen the chance of someone looking for them." Chaz smiled. "You'll also have to learn how to speak English. Regardless, you'll be able to keep your first name. Irene and Reika volunteered to be your second cousins. If they can talk you into it, you'll become Nene Chang. You won't be directly related to the family on paper so the chances of anyone making the connection are pretty remote." He let Nene think about that.

"What does Mr. Chang think about that?" Nene asked tentatively.

Chaz grinned. "You'll have a chance to ask Chin about that yourself. He's meeting you at the airfield. Reika and Irene say they haven't seen him this active in years. Kou says that getting involved with the Knight Sabers seems to have given Mr. Chang new reasons to stay active."

Chin had said the things he had left to look forward to were the Knight Sabers giving Quincy a bloody nose and Reika and Irene getting married. He had smiled at Chaz when he said that. He was determined to hold on until then. Chaz was a little embarrassed. Chin had wanted to talk to him about the old days; like the 1970's and 80's. Chin had been born in the 1950's. Priss had jumped on that immediately and had taken to teasing him about his age.

"Really? Sugoi! Why do I rate the VIP treatment?" Nene asked excitedly.

Chaz's grin widened. "How else should he treat a member of the family?"

Family? Me? Nene was astounded. What about her own family? Granted she hadn't seen them since she'd run away to join the Knight Sabers. Still she had always had the comfort of knowing she could go back. Guess you have to accept responsibility sometime Nene.

"Nene. Unless you're trying to catch flies close your mouth," Chaz whispered, misunderstanding her expression. He continued in a more normal tone, "Chin says he regards the Knight Sabers as his foster family. I think he's over reacting. On the other hand, Irene seems to think that's just fine. Since she's the heir apparent to the Hou Bang. . " He shrugged and let the rest go unsaid.

Sylia hid a laugh at Nene's reaction. She had grown up an only child and was probably delighted by the idea. "I wouldn't worry about it, Nene. The morphing program is already setup in the computer. You can play with your body all you like within the set parameters. But DON'T use the direct access. Your brain probably is not fully recovered from the last time and I don't want a relapse," Sylia hadn't finished before Nene was out the door heading for the computer room. Sylia looked at Chaz.

Chaz shrugged expressively. "Don't look at me, I hate to go shopping for clothes. I don't understand why she's so excited," He replied to Sylia's stare.

Priss was in heaven. She'd gotten a letter two days ago asking if she'd send a record company in the US a demo. She'd been angry with Chaz at first. How dare he play games with her career? But he'd explained that the offer was only a CHANCE. NO guarantees. Chin had gotten her the introduction. That was ALL. Win or lose, it was all up to her.

She looked behind her at the band as they finished setting up. They had over a dozen demo tapes. Priss had decided that they needed one more. THIS one was going to be perfect. She was sure of it. She faced front again. The sound techs were checking levels and measuring echoes in the system. When they finished there wouldn't be an odd noise in the recording. She reached up and grabbed the isolation headset. The more things change the more things stay the same. No one had yet come up with a better way for musicians to gauge their own performance. She smiled. Time to see if we can't wipe those bored expressions off the tech's faces.

Linna leaned against a support pillar and watched Keith fight. The well shaped young Chinese-American really was coming along nicely. Despite appearances, his slender well-muscled frame was much stronger than most people would give him credit for. His reflexes were superb. Just about everything she wanted in a student. She grinned a little as he ducked his close-cropped head to avoid a blow from his opponent. It was just like she thought it would be when Chin approached her.

She'd smiled when Chin asked her if she wanted another chance at dancing. He'd been so surprised at her reply. Linna was a little surprised herself. Somewhere along the line she'd lost the need for an audience. She didn't need to see her name in lights anymore. She'd found something better. When she danced with an opponent it was perfect. She was sure she had their FULL attention right up until the end. Her dancing was free form and deadly. The rush she felt incredible. What did the stage have that Linna's combat dance didn't? Many of her favorite 'steps' couldn't even be performed without a hardsuit. She'd smiled and told him the only thing she wanted was a place to teach her new style of dance. He'd been skeptical but he said he'd send a few of his own people to her class. If they reported favorably he'd finance her school. Five of his best-powered armor people had come. Linna smiled inwardly at the memory. Four of the five had gone back in casts. Their powered armor had gone back as scrap. The fifth was her student now. Chin had held up his end of he deal. The money for the school had been sent the same day they returned. Linna's combat dance was the only way a person in conventional powered armor could expect to win against a combat boomer. Others had been tried but they didn't have a firm enough grasp of boomer psychology and mechanics to be effective. Linna had the advantage of working with Sylia while she developed her style. She winced as Keith missed a kick and the practice boomer slammed him into a wall, again. Sighing, she went to show him how to do it again.

Chaz was in the garage working on his hardsuit again. Sylia had said that there was nothing wrong with the design; it just needed a few refinements. So he was down here refining. Truthfully, he didn't like the chore. But Sylia wouldn't let him get away with just book learning. If it had been up to him he would've let Mackie do it, the technophile enjoyed it.

He frowned and double-checked the myomer power system. The whole operating system had been debugged by Nene, so he shouldn't have a problem with the link again. Just in case it did, they'd installed an override to unlock the myomers. He wouldn't have had nearly as much trouble dodging at the end if the damn system hadn't locked up. Frowning at the thought, Chaz took down the unsealing tool.

/Mackie's coming up behind you./

-Thanks-

His hand paused. He smiled. "Hello Mackie."

Mackie quit the attempt at silence and started walking normally. "Damn! How'd you know I was here?" He'd been as quiet as he could since leaving the stairs. The light was too dim to put his reflection in the hardsuit. So how had Chaz known?

Chaz turned and grinned at Mackie. "You keep forgetting. Until you remember and take into account WHAT I am you're never going to be able to sneak up on me." Still grinning Chaz turned back to his work. "What can I do for you?"

Mackie was disgruntled. Sometimes he envied Chaz. Other times. . . might as well admit it, he wanted to inflict major amounts of pain, or at least embarrassment on him. "I just came down to see how you were doing."

Chaz pointed at the terminal without looking up from his work. "See for yourself. Those are the changes that Sylia recommended."

Mackie looked and whistled. Those modifications and repairs were going to take a while. "What are you and Priss doing tonight?" he asked casually.

Chaz looked up. "Don't know yet. We'll probably do dinner and a movie. Maybe stay at home and dial up a video. Why?"

Mackie tried to hide his blush. "Nene was asking if we could do a double date. I was hoping you two wouldn't mind."

Chaz put down the sealer. "I don't see why not. After all, we aren't going to be seeing you for a few of weeks. I'll ask Priss when she gets back. No promises though." He turned back to work. "So what did you two want to do tonight?"

Mackie thought about it. "I really don't have any ideas. I was kind of hoping you could come up with something." He sighed. "I'm not really much good at that kind of thing."

Chaz nodded without looking up. "Okay. Tell you what you do. Go make reservations for four at La Maison Rouge then make sure we can get tickets to the Gilbert and Sullivan play the Pirates of Penzance. It's showing at the Ginza Theater tonight."

Mackie looked at Chaz in awe. "How can you put together an evening like that in your head?"

A shrug worked its way across the bioroids shoulders. "It's easy when you listen to the little clues they give. Priss said she wanted to see the play if she could get tickets and La Maison Rouge is the best restaurant that we can afford." He looked up and smiled at Mackie. "Or we can just go for a drive to Nikko and have a hanami party." Actually Priss had said she wanted to see the play after she had heard him singing 'I am a Pirate King' in the shower.

Mackie gulped. "You have got to be kidding. Who's going to drive? You and Priss only own motorcycles, Nene owns a moped, Linna's car is in the shop again and sis is out tonight." He prayed that didn't mean what he thought it did.

Chaz wanted to grin at Mackie's discomfort. He was obviously thinking that they were going to have to be driven by Priss and himself. Biting back the urge to torment Mackie he changed the subject. "Who's on boomer watch tonight then? Linna? Hand me that power converter will you please?"

Mackie looked around and put the asked for module in Chaz's hand. "Yeah. She's upset that she can't find someone to take her turn tonight though," Mackie whispered sotto voice. "I think she wanted to take her new student out."

Chaz sealed up the module. "Bad move. Never mix teaching and sex like that. It's usually a recipe for trouble." He stood up and started unsealing the sensor spike. "Ah well. I suppose if anyone can handle it she can." He looked up. "Make up your mind, Nikko or La Maison Rouge."

"La Maison Rouge," Mackie said quickly. No need to tempt fate, or in this case, Priss' and Chaz's driving.

"Good. Get going on those reservations. Middle of the week or not we're probably going to have to bribe the Maitre'd to get a good table." Chaz looked over at Mackie. "And I don't want to buy tickets from a scalper. So get moving."

Mackie got.

Chaz pulled the sensor module out of its socket. Damn! With a flick of his wrist he chucked the scorched module into the trash. Now he'd have to calibrate a new one. Chaz set his alarm and continued with his task. With any luck he could finish the majority of it before it was time to go.

Sylia finished her typing and watched the screen. In a few moments a three dimensional graph was drawn on the screen. Sighing, she filed the data and shut down the system. It had taken a while to put together but the evidence was pretty clear. Reaching out wearily, the leader of the Knight Sabers lifted her coffee to her lips. She didn't know why it made her so nervous. The changes in Priss's psyche profile were all for the better. In the past few months the formally raw nerved and touchy singer had become much more stable and less angry. If it weren't for the swiftness of the changes she wouldn't have noticed it at all. Stretching to relieve cramped muscles, Sylia got up and headed for the kitchen. The cause of the changes was obvious enough; Priss's relationship with Chaz. They spent so much time together that the action of his neural stimulator had probably slipped to the subconscious level. But, contrary to her expectations, it was still having a subtle effect on Priss. Sylia poured herself another cup of coffee. Now that she knew, the questions got a little harder. What was she going to do about it?

Nene looked up at the screen. No. Still not right. Maybe she could make it a little taller. The computer buzzed. Hmm. . That configuration wasn't possible. Okay shorten the whole body by five percent. Better. She sighed. When they had told her she was going to have this done it seemed like a dream come true. She could look like anybody! She could be prettier than Priss more athletic than Linna. Anything she wanted. After she had worked with it for a while Nene came to the realization that she really didn't want to change. As much as she sometimes complained, she liked the way she looked. It's not like she had a choice though. Turning her mind back to the problem, she tried changing the hair color again.

Mackie opened the door and walked in. What the hell had Nene done to the simulation? The image on the viewer wasn't half as cute as she was now. On the other hand, Mackie admitted to himself, he was a biased judge. Even still. Purple hair? He shivered and walked up behind her. Gently touching her shoulder he caught her attention. "How's it going Nene?"

Nene looked up at Mackie. Now there's a question. What kind of girl did he like? She smiled inwardly. Besides the obvious. "Not so well. There are so many choices that don't know what to do. I'm also becoming more and more sure I don't want to change." Mackie nodded for her to go on. "It took me a long time to get used to who I am. I feel that by changing I'm giving all of that up."

Mackie thought about it. "Let me sit down for a second." Nene got up and let him sit. Mackie reset the to default image. "What you have to remember is that you only have to change enough so that others don't realize it's you. Stage actors have been doing that with makeup for years." He made a couple small adjustments. "So you change things in slight ways. A nip here a tuck there." In the image, the hair grew longer and darker. "Small changes that add up." The legs lengthened a trifle and firmed into dancer proportions. The arms were changed to match. "The trick is to fool the subconscious into being SURE that it's a different person." The eyes deepened in color and a blue undertone was added. "Maybe add a little misdirection here and there." The bust size grew slightly and the chest broadened to accommodate it. "After that you adjust your mannerisms so that the conscious mind can't find similarities." The behind firmed and the hips pushed forward a little. "So that the total effect is that of another person." He finished his alterations. "Now what do you think?"

Nene just looked at the image. It was the body she always dreamed of having. Mackie had created it out of her own with just a few minor alterations. She looked at it. She could still see herself in there. None of her essential character had left the face. Everything seemed so familiar. She wrapped her arms around Mackie. "It's perfect!" With a bounce and twist she jumped the arm of the chair and landed in his lap. "Oh. Mackie. It's just perfect." With great feeling she reached around his neck and drew him in for a kiss. The kiss grew longer and longer. Finally she broke off. "Will you still like me when I look like that?" she asked him shyly as she laid her head on his shoulder.

Mackie reached out and saved the file. "Of course." He grinned. "A programmer should know it's not the hardware that counts. It's the software." He kissed her lightly on her cheek. Nene turned her head up for another kiss. Mackie obliged. Ignored on the screen in front of them the new Nene spun, with the legs and arms of Linna, the bust of Priss and a mix of Nene's and Sylia's face.

Chaz finished resealing the armor plating. Now all he had to do was calibrate everything. Yeah right. That's ALL. That took almost as long as installing the components sometimes. He sighed heavily. The new weapons should make it worthwhile. In two months he'd hopefully never have to do this again. If Chin came through with that nano-tank, all of this would have to be scraped. He smiled. There was already a set of design specs putting itself together in his mind. Sylia would have to do the actual design work of course. With any luck what happened in the last fight would never be a problem again. His thoughts paused as the intercom chimed. Reaching over from the computer he keyed it on.

Sylia's image filled the screen. "Chaz, Priss called. She's really busy at the recording studio so she's going to be late tonight."

Chaz wasn't too surprised. He just hoped Nene and Mackie would understand. "Thanks Sylia." Sylia's image smiled. "No problem. I'm leaving in a half hour, is there anything you need before then?"

Chaz thought about it. "Not really. If you see Mackie you might ask him to stop down to check out my hookups." If he ever got these things right on the first try it would be a miracle.

Sylia's smile got broader. "I'll leave a message on the computer for him. I think he's tied up with Nene right now." She broke the connection.

Hmm. That's interesting. Didn't think Nene was into bondage. He laughed at the thought. Wonder if they still want to go out. He shrugged. They'll call me if they do. Wiping the distractions from his thoughts he turned back to his work.

Let's see if the new vibrowire blades work. With a couple keypunches he extended the blades from the forearm housings. Damn. Left one extended but it's not vibrating. He typed in a quick diagnostic request. Hmm… He made a quick adjustment. Obligingly the blade started to hum. There we go. Just needed a simple software fix. Chaz smiled. Sylia had designed the new weapons systems around a close in fighting style. The only real long-range power came from his X-ray lasers. Not that they were anything to shrug off. With the actuation system finally tuned and the new myomers he guessed the combination of suit and wearer strength to be somewhere around 25 tons. The smile turned feral. Let's see a C-55 beat this! With the new knuckle bomber systems he'd installed, his punch should be able to blow a hole through a BU-12. With these he wouldn't have needed the KnightWing for those HTRs. Chuckling evilly, he worked on finishing the installation.

Linna walked up the stairs. Why did she have to be on duty tonight? The long limbed dancer groused. Keith had finally managed to get that pirouette down and he'd wanted to celebrate. Grumbling, Linna opened the door at the top of the stairs and walked to the situation room. Nobody here. That's odd. She sat down and checked the computer.

Sylia's note said that Nene and Mackie were in the computer room. Chaz was in his usual area. Linna smiled. Day or night, if he wasn't with Priss he could be found downstairs tinkering. As much as he complained about Sylia being a slave driver, he didn't seem to need much prodding. Linna sometimes wondered when he found time to sleep or if he slept at all. Mentally shrugging she punched up the to do list. Nope, there was nothing unusual there. Monitor AD-Police communications and keep tabs on Knight Saber's locations. Punching up the tracking system Linna quickly located Priss at a recording studio in Ebisu, Sylia at the theater and Chaz in the garage. Linna frowned. Where were Mackie's and Nene's beacons? They were built so you couldn't shut them off easily.

Linking the system to the intercom Linna headed for the computer room. Linna stood before the door and typed in her access code. With a click the door lock disengaged. Pulling open the door Linna looked inside. Four heartbeats passed before she recovered her wits and shut the door. Stifling a grin and a blush, she headed for the stairs. Well that answered that question. If they were going to go any farther though they really should move to Mackie's bedroom.

Leaving the computer room behind Linna walked down to Chaz and Mackie's sanctum. "Hi Linna," Came Chaz's cheerful salutation from across the garage.

Chaz turned and smiled at the young dancer. As she crossed the garage he admired her figure. Trim without being thin and athletic while still being DECIDEDLY female. The skintight slacks and navy blue blouse just served to accentuate her curves. God, she moves like a cat, he thought in admiration. "What can this poor, lonely soul do for you fair one?" he asked cheerfully.

Linna smiled back. Sometimes he could be so charming. Other times. . . well, she admitted it: he was a royal pain. "Just came down to see what you were up to," She returned as she walked to the intercom and turned it on. "I hooked the intercom to the alert system," she explained.

Chaz nodded. He'd pulled the chore his share of times. "I'm not really doing much at the moment. Just chasing down a few bugs in the system." He waved his thumb at the hardsuit behind him. "I DON'T want a repeat of what happened last time." He grimaced. "It's embarrassing." His expression went back to normal. "How about you? What are you going to do while you wait?"

"I was going to reschedule the curriculum for my class," Linna sighed. "I was hoping to have Keith ready to serve as an assistant instructor before the first group arrives." She shook her head morosely.

"No go huh? What's the problem?" Chaz asked intrigued. Linna was a superlative dance instructor. Keith was a martial arts expert if a little too intense. There shouldn't have been any trouble.

Linna tried a smile. "At first things went so well. He understands how the techniques work against the practice boomer. He just can't seem to develop a feeling for what it would take to stop a real one. He finishes one technique and immediately goes for a follow up. If he tried that against a fully powered boomer. . ." she trailed off.

Chaz winced. "He'd be squished like a bug. Even in Sylia's hardsuits you don't want to stay within grasping distance." Chaz began to see the problem. Most martial arts depended on moving in on your opponent and then going through an attack pattern designed to keep your opponent off balance. Try that on a boomer and it would rip your arms off. They ignored all but the most critical damage and they didn't feel pain. Hit one and it would keep reacting as if nothing had happened. Follow throughs were only good against a boomer when you had heavy momentum or major firepower neither of which most conventional suits had. "So what are you going to do?"

Linna shrugged. "I don't know. Sylia taught us the hard way. I don't have the time to wait for him to heal. If a job comes up in the middle of a class, I need to be able to drop everything in his lap and go." She leaned up against the table. "What I really need is a cyborg. That way he can learn how useless his normal attacks are against something that can just stand there and take the damage while still dealing with him." She sighed. "But, I don't know any that would hire out for something like that and I'd be worried about pushing them over the edge."

Chaz laughed. "What about me? I'm a lot stronger than any conventional cyborg. I could probably take him on in his powered armor and win. To make it fair all I have to do is limit myself to normal human reaction time." Seemed like an obvious solution to him.

Linna leaned forward. "You'd do that for me?" She asked earnestly.

Chaz tried to ignore the look down her blouse she was giving him. "Sure. Just tell him I'm a cyborg." The only people that knew Linna was in the Knight Sabers were the Chang family. "But, it's only for this one student okay? I'm not going to do this regularly." Hmm. . . Black silk. Mentally slapping himself he dragged his mind and eyes back to the conversation.

Linna jumped off the table and wrapped her arms around his head. "Thank you Chaz! This means a lot to me."

Chaz wasn't certain what to do at this point. If he shoved her away he might hurt her feelings. On the other hand if Priss saw him with his nose in Linna's blouse she might not be very understanding. The mental image of an enraged Priss decided him. Reaching up he gently untangled her arms from around his head. "No problem Linna. Anything for a friend."

Linna stepped back a little awkwardly. She was so demonstrative that she sometime forgot how much it could embarrass other people. She hung her head. "Sorry. I didn't mean to get carried away."

"Don't worry about it. I liked it." He smiled. "If I wasn't involved with Priss. . ." He let the sentence go unfinished. He decided to change the subject. "Are Mackie and Nene still in the computer room?" Linna blushed. "I see that they are," he chuckled. "So much for our outing tonight." He shrugged. "Probably just as well. Priss is likely going to be coming home tired tonight."

Linna's eyes widened. "You mean she stays here every night?"

Chaz rolled his eyes meaningfully. "I wish. You know Priss is too independent for that," he said ruefully.

Linna nodded. As far as she knew this was the first time since the Knight Sabers formed that Priss had a relationship of any kind. "I suppose. It's just the way you said that."

Chaz blushed. "I'm going to have to watch the way I think about her more carefully. I think. . . What?" he said as he caught Linna staring at him.

She smiled. "I've never seen you blush before. You really like her don't you?"

Chaz ignored the electronic laughter in his head. "Yeah, I do." He took a deep breath. "I just wish I knew how serious it was for her. It seems like every time we start to get close she does something to keep me at arms length. In many ways we're too different. If we want this relationship to last she can't keep doing that." He smiled briefly. "You know, I never used to blush. Now, unless I turn my skin darker or consciously override it the AI assumes I want the full range of facial expression."

"Have you tried talking to her about it?" Linna asked ignoring the attempt to sidetrack the conversation.

"Yeah. It's usually about that point that she changes the subject. I just don't know what to do. I really like her, but she seems unwilling or unable to move the relationship further." He shrugged. "She won't open up at all. At first I thought it was just me." He looked pointedly at Linna. "But, she's the same way with everyone. I know more about how Sylia thinks for god's sake. At least she's consistent."

"You know Priss loves you don't you?" Linna asked softly.

Chaz nodded. "Uh huh. But, that's not the same as being in love is it? No matter how she tries to hide it even a blind man could see that she cares about all of us. I think we're the only family she has. When she's around her band she talks about everything but herself. They know even less about her than we do. I don't mean her history. I know that well enough. I mean what's inside. The more I think about it the more I realize she's like me."

"What do you mean? You're very open about yourself," Linna asked puzzled.

Chaz smiled. "Everyone in the Knight Sabers has seen me at my most emotional. That's partly because of what happened. My life fell apart and the glue still isn't dry. Usually I'm MUCH more reserved."

Linna patted his hand. "I like that you're so open. I'm not sure how I'd handle it if you suddenly clamed up the way Priss does."

"Don't worry. It's not like I have anything to hide from you anymore. I'll just tend to be a little quieter that's all."

Linna didn't say anything. She'd gotten used to talking to Chaz. He always seemed to care. She wasn't sure she'd like it if he changed. She shrugged mentally. No use borrowing trouble. He might not change. "I hope not. You're one of the few male friends I have. It's tough to talk to anybody outside of the Knight Sabers about anything. Somewhere along the line they just. . ." She shrugged helplessly.

"I know. You don't see things the same way. To most people GENOM and the Chang Conglomerate are just multi-nationals. Being in the Knight Sabers gives you a much deeper look into the way the world works. It's tough to talk to people who can't see past the surface. That's probably why none of Sylia's rules work very well. If we followed them completely we'd be cut off from everybody including each other."

"Exactly. They just don't seem to see what's important." She paused. "Chaz, I'm going to tell you something I never thought I'd hear myself say." She leaned forward and looked him in the eye. "I would rather give up dancing forever than leave the Knight Sabers. What we do is too important. Right after you had your 'accident' Sylia hacked into the AD-Police database to destroy Nene's records. While she was in there she downloaded some statistics on the attack." Chaz nodded for her to go on. "There were an estimated 850 people killed in the rampage and the fires not including the ADP personnel that got killed."

Chaz looked at her in shock. "How many wounded?"

"Over four times that. But, that's not the important point. The report also gave estimates of the number of deaths that would have resulted if we hadn't stopped them. Assuming that USSD would arrive within twenty minutes there would have been another 1,000+ people killed. Neither of them had really used their missiles until you arrived. If they arrived later the estimate starts jumping. If they had arrived when we did the boomers would still probably have killed another hundred or so."

Chaz was speechless. He hadn't realized how many had been killed.

Linna smiled. "I guess I'm lucky. I get to do what I love and I make a difference. How many people do you know that can say that?"

Chaz returned the smile. "Not many. But if I want to continue to make a difference I have to finish getting this work done."

Linna took the hint. "All right. I'll let you get back to work. If you want to talk later I'll be in the situation room."

"Thanks for the talk Linna." Chaz said gratefully.

She turned and grinned. "What are friends for?"

Upstairs Priss stepped away from the intercom. Now what was she going do? First, she had better go back to the door before Linna came upstairs. She grabbed her helmet from the table and started walking. What the hell was she supposed to do now?

Chaz reached up and ran another test cycle. Hmm. Still only getting half the feedback he should be getting. Where the hell is the problem? Must be a software/hardware conflict. Bringing up the configuration system he changed a couple of the default parameters. Okay. Now let's see what we've got. A smile slowly spread across his face as the diagnostic and interpretation systems read 100. Excellent. Only took half an hour too. Reaching for the sealing tool he closed the panel. Just three more systems to check out and he should have a hardsuit again. He couldn't wait. He wanted to knock a boomer into next week. A noise from the stairs distracted him from his reverie. Boots. Slow steps. Swish of hair. Kevlar against leather. Sometimes he could beat the AI to the punch. "Hiya Priss." He turned around. The smile on his face slowly faded. Priss didn't look like her normal self. "Something wrong hon?" Priss flinched. Oh shit. That's a bad sign. He reached over and shut down the testing apparatus. "What is it?" He asked as he waved her to a seat on the table.

Priss didn't sit down. She reached over and set her helmet on the table. What was she going to say now? With an effort Priss forced a smile. "It's nothing. So. . .are we still going out tonight?"

What's eating her? Obviously something she doesn't want to talk about now. Leave it alone for now Chaz. "Sure we are. In fact, if you're up for it, Nene and Mackie want to double with us."

Priss felt the clamp around her chest loosen. Rouge boomers and street thugs she could handle easily. But she'd never felt comfortable talking about how she felt. With Mackie and Nene along she wouldn't have to deal with this now. "Great!" She said with more enthusiasm than she felt. "Where are they now?"

Mackie was in bliss. Nene seemed to be determined to keep him in here all night. He didn't mind. He'd been holding her for hours now. She'd almost dozed off at one point. He smiled. everything was right with the world.

Chaz gently put a finger over Priss's protesting mouth. "Shh." He quickly tapped in his access code and pulled the door quietly open. Creeping in Priss and Chaz worked their way up behind the chair. Mackie seemed oblivious to everything. Nene was curled up in his lap with her arm around his waist. She looked like she was sleeping. Chaz and Priss turned to each other and winked.

"What are you two doing?" They both yelled simultaneously. The reaction was everything they could have hoped for. Nene's and Mackie's eyes popped open and they immediately lost what little wits they had about them. Nene began to explain how she was in here working on her new body. Mackie tried to explain how he had only been helping.

"You were helping Nene with her body?" Priss came in quickly. "My, It seems that this relationship is progressing quickly."

Nene blushed and Mackie began babbling incoherently about the upcoming surgery.

Chaz and Priss couldn't contain it. With a burst the laughter poured forth. "Relax," Chaz soothed. "We were only kidding. Whatever you two do is between yourselves. I just came up to ask if we were still on for tonight."

Mackie blinked. He'd forgotten all about that. "Sorry. I forgot. Have you two been waiting on us?"

Priss pulled at Chaz's arm. "What were we supposed to do tonight?"

"Nene and Mackie are heading to the US for a month for her nano-plas remember? They wanted to go out to the theater with us tonight."

Priss smiled. "That would be GREAT! What did you have in mind?"

Mackie looked glum. "We were supposed to take you and Nene to La Maison Rouge and to that Gilbert and Sullivan play. I forgot to get the tickets though." He leaned back against the computer.

Nene frowned. "Is that what you came to talk to me about when you came in?"

Mackie scratched his head sheepishly. "Yeah. Guess I got distracted," he said with an impious grin. Nene stuck out her tongue.

Chaz smiled. "Not a real problem. You just leave it to me. Everyone hurry up and get ready. We have to be out the door in fifteen minutes to make the curtain."

Nene and Priss left to get changed. Mackie crept up to Chaz. "What about the tickets?"

Chaz frowned down at Mackie. His voice dropped into a parody of a Mexican accent. "Teekets? We don't need no steenking teekets." He laughed at the teenagers' shocked expression. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it. Go on and get changed."

Chaz smiled, as he got ready to go. Say what you like me boy, this body has some definite improvements over the old one. He looked in the mirror. Black leather boots surmounted by black slacks and a black silk shirt. Reaching down he picked up the black leather jacket. Despite Priss's trying to talk him into a fancier one he'd bought the plainest one they had. Perhaps the sunglasses were a bit much. Nah. Just one more thing. Reaching into the back of his dresser he pulled out a plain metal rod. At least to anyone else it was a plain metal rod. In his hands it was one of the best hand weapons in the world. With a quick movement he shoved it into his inside pocket. If Sylia ever found out he'd this made she'd kill him, then she'd kill Mackie for designing it. He was supposed to have been working on nano-tank mechanics at the time. On the other hand if he needed it he was in pretty big trouble anyway. Whistling, he left the dark room behind him.

"You want me to sit where?" Nene was flabbergasted. Riding on a motorcycle when you were in a hardsuit was one thing. Without was another. "No way."

Chaz was getting irritated. He looked over at Priss as she helped Mackie get on behind her. Leaning over he whispered in Nene's ear. "Get on the bike Nene. You'll be fine. Unless you'd rather ride with Priss?" He left just enough undertone in the question that the threat was clear. NO-ONE in their right mind wanted to ride behind HER. Mackie didn't know what he was in for.

Nene thought about it. Priss's bike driving was legendary. On the other hand so were her accidents. "Why aren't you wearing a helmet?" Nene asked as she got on behind him.

Chaz shrugged. "In the first place, a helmet for me is superfluous. The subdermal armor and my ceramel skull are a lot stronger than the material in the helmet. In the second, my brain isn't in my head." He started the engine and raced the motor. "In the third, I like the feel of wind against my face." He turned to grin at her. "And last, you're wearing mine." With that he gunned the engine and released the clutch. With the squeal of grip-tite on concrete, the bike sprang like an escaping animal from the garage.

Nene held her breath as the motorcycle hit the freeway. Chaz turned and smiled at Priss. With a conspiratorial grin they raced the motors. Nene felt a cold chill run down her spine. With a roar the bikes accelerated to their maximum speed. Cars on either side turned into multi-colored streaks as the seriously overpowered bikes flew by them. Nene leaned around Chaz and into the slipstream to look at the speedometer. God they were going almost 150 km/hr! She turned to look at Mackie. His head was stuck out around Priss as he watched the traffic whiz by. Nene risked a look down at the pavement whistling by and immediately clutched tighter to Chaz. She heard his calm voice from the front. "Relax Nene. The odds of us getting in an accident are practically zero. I can make this bike stop on a five yen piece and turn on a fifty." Nene tried to relax. He was right. There were unlikely to be any safer drivers anywhere. His reflexes and sensors made him about as good as you could get. Still, she would be glad when the ride was over.

Chaz opened his com-link to Priss. "We've got to get over. The next exit is the one we want." Priss didn't answer she just lifted her thumb and pulled over. Somewhere behind him Chaz could hear a siren. He smiled. It was probably the highway patrol trying to catch up to the reported speeders. No, the pitch was too high. He frowned and glanced in his mirror as they pulled into the cloverleaf. Shit! It's Leon! "Priss. We've got a problem. Leon is coming around the bend. If he sees you he's going to try to find out who you're with. That will link you to Mackie. If he sees Nene it'll be worse." That's an understatement. Wish he'd thought of that before they'd left. The quickie makeup job Priss had given Nene would fool people who just seen a picture but anyone who knew her well wouldn't be fooled. The two motorcycles leaned into the turn and began slowing down to city speed. Leon sped by them siren still blazing. That was close. Wonder where he's going? Chaz shrugged and parked the bike. Nene hopped off before the kickstand hit the ground.

"No offense." She said as she took off the helmet, letting her brown dyed hair fall. "But, I'm taking a taxi home."

Chaz smiled. "I don't think so. Cabbies are required to report fugitives you know and you just missed Leon going past. Imagine what would have happened if you hadn't been wearing the helmet." He grinned at her pained look. "Just kidding. If it came to that I'd knock him out until you could get out of sight." He reached down and flicked on the bike alarm. The silent alarm would release the most devastating anti-theft device in the world. Him. It was keyed to alert his AI. "Let's go. The curtain goes up in ten minutes."

Mackie turned to look back as they walked through the door. "How the hell did you get us in?" He whispered. Chaz had just gone up to the window and whispered for a few seconds. Then they had been given the red carpet treatment. Mackie hadn't thought Chaz was the threatening type. Must've used his neural stimulator.

Chaz smiled enigmatically. "I pointed out that we did in fact have perfectly valid tickets."

Mackie was puzzled. What did he mean they had tickets? The box office had a Sold Out sign posted and Chaz couldn't have ordered the tickets from home in the time he'd had.

"I then handed over four man-yen bills," Chaz continued.

Priss leaned over. "You mean you bribed him?" Just when she thought she had an idea of how his mind worked, he'd pull something like this.

Chaz grinned again. "Shh. It's starting."

Leon was pissed. He'd gone through Daley's things parceling out those that were supposed to go to other people, until he'd hit the pocket recorder. The date and time left no doubt as to when the message was taken. He'd tracked the serial number to GENOM. That was the point at which he'd run into a wall. Within minutes of asking for information on the serial number he'd been called into Fujiura's office. The pressure obviously hadn't been applied from above. GENOM had the man in their pocket. Leon had been told in no uncertain terms to drop it. No reason given. The asshole didn't even try to defend the action. He'd just stared at him and asked him if he wanted to resign. Bastard. Then he'd had the gall to send him out on a routine rogue boomer. A stupid serving unit for Christsake! He pounded the steering wheel until he regained control. It wasn't over yet. There were other people who could help with this. All he had to do was find them. GENOM had gone too far this time. They were going to pay.

Chaz stepped out into the cool November air. "So what did you think?"

Priss laughed. "That was hilarious. I especially liked the pirate king. I haven't laughed that hard since we had to pry you out of the simulator."

Chaz made a face at the memory. Even looking back it didn't seem funny. He was, however, in the minority opinion.

Nene and Mackie walked out arm in arm. "What about Frederick?" Asked Nene. "I thought he was cute."

Chaz and Priss gave her a raspberry. Priss grabbed her helmet. "The guy was a doof who knew people were taking advantage of his sense of duty and wouldn't do anything about it. He should have either left or fought. Instead he waffled."

Nene pouted. "I still thought it was noble."

Chaz tossed Nene the helmet. "Sorry Nene I have to agree with Priss. The guy was a neo-maxi-doomed-dweebie. No sense of morality just a sense of duty. I on the other hand liked the police chief. An honest coward who did what he thought was right despite himself."

Mackie grinned at him from under his helmet. "I liked him too. I really liked the line about 'How we should have thought of that before we joined the force.' It was hysterical." He'd especially liked how Nene held on to his arm throughout the performance.

Chaz smiled. "I know what you mean. That was one of my favorite lines when I saw it for the first time."

Priss raised an eyebrow. "And how many decades ago was that?" Not waiting for the answer she jumped on her bike.

Chaz started to answer. When his attention was dragged to the side. Four men were approaching. None of them looked particularly social. They looked in fact like your typical street gang. In order to get out of the parking lot they would have to go right by them. From the way they carried themselves Chaz could guess what would happen when they did. Waving Nene to stay on the bike he got off and approached them. Behind him he could hear Priss getting off her bike. He turned and waved for her to stop. The AI almost didn't catch it in time. The baseball bat would have caught a slower man. Chaz ducked slightly and the aluminum club swished harmlessly past. It couldn't have hurt him much but you didn't take chances. Spinning he scanned the quartet. Fuck. Goddamn cyborgs. Cheap equipment too. Probably one step from cyber-psychosis. "I take it that the time for talking has passed." The question was rhetorical. He didn't really want to hurt them, but it looked like they were determined to be a nuisance. He heard Priss running up behind him. "Priss don't!" he yelled over his shoulder. Too late. She sprang at the leader with her knife outstretched in her fist and a growl in her throat. The blade caught on the cyborgs kevlar coat and he casually picked her up with one hand.

The leader loomed over the slightly smaller bioroid, an ugly, unfixed puckered scar drawing his mouth up into a sneer. "Tell you what little man, leave the bikes and the girls to the Cybernetic Tigers and we'll let you go." Chaz looked at the hulking brute. He stood almost two meters tall; only twenty centimeters taller than himself. Probably spent all his money on myomered muscles and a reinforced skeleton. Priss struggled and swore as she tried to hit the man holding her. One of the other cyborgs started to move towards Nene and Mackie. Chaz looked up at the leader, a rictus like grin beginning to spread slowly across his face. "I'll make you a counter offer. Drop to your knees and beg forgiveness and you walk out of here alive." The big man snarled and made a grab for him. That's it. Chaz dropped and rolled at the cyborg holding Priss. "You first buddy."

Mackie took Chaz's drop and roll as a cue to start moving for the nearest gang member. This should be no problem. Using Chaz's bike as a springboard Mackie flipped his legs up and over to land on the thug's head. With a crash the hood hit the ground. Mackie stepped off the body. "All right. Who's next?" Behind him he heard Nene cry out a warning. The thug had shrugged off the blow and gotten to his feet. With a snarl he launched a kick at Mackie's gut. Mackie dodged back in time to avoid the cracked ribs the blow had promised. The heel clipped him and sent him stumbling back. Laughing evilly, the thug walked over to finish the job.

Chaz came up out of the roll quickly and punched heavily into the cyborgs chest. With a crunch, the cyborgs reinforced ribcage collapsed. The stricken thug's eyes widened in pain and disbelief. With a gasp he dropped Priss. Chaz picked up the incapacitated fighter by his shattered sternum and heaved him at the leader who was moving in. "Priss, give Mackie a hand." Stepping up to the leader, who was struggling with the body of his confederate, Chaz launched a kick into the formerly arrogant leaders gut. Squeaking and gasping the leader went down. That should finish that. Turning to the third thug he found the man just standing there. What the hell? Belatedly his AI informed him that the 'man' was a C-39 one of the oldest bodyguard boomers around and an early precursor to the C-55. Chaz smirked. Great! I don't have to deal with it. It probably won't do anything if it's not ordered to. With a croak the leader ordered the boomer to attack. Chaz's grin turned sour. Ho boy.

Mackie rolled to the side in a desperate effort to avoid the cyborg's dive. This was getting serious. Without a weapon he didn't have a real chance of doing this monster any real harm. Mackie flipped to his feet and repeated his double foot attack to the boomers chest. Pain sprang up his legs as the thug brought its arm down hard, deflecting the kick and nearly snapping Mackie's leg in the process. Mackie suppressed a yell and fought off the haze of pain. That hurt! Gritting his teeth he rolled with the blow once again came to his feet and faced off against his opponent. With a grin he saw Priss coming up quietly behind the cyborg, twenty centimeters of gleaming, razor-edged steel held lightly in her hand.

Where was the damn thing? Nene thought as she frantically searched Priss's bike. She knew Priss never went anywhere without her gun. It may not be able to kill a C-55 but it would sure as hell intimidate these guys.

Chaz grabbed the boomer's hands as it came forward. This model apparently doesn't break out of its skin, he noted idly. Its claws looked deadly enough though. Chaz grinned. Not as nasty as his. With a bit of a strain he picked up the boomer and tossed it into the sky. With a crunch the packed gravel under him gave way and he sunk a quarter inch into the parking lot. The passage through the rock-covered ground tore the fine leather of his boots leaving him standing on soles barely connected to the rest of the boot. Shit. Those boots had cost a fortune. With a growl of anger he watched the boomer hit the top of its arc ten feet up. With a movement too fast for most people to follow he swung at the descending boomer. The near-mindless combat-droid ignored the damage and leapt to resume the fight.

Chaz's angry growl grew to a roar. Extending his claws fully, Chaz did a crotch to chin swipe that eviscerated the boomer. The boomer dropped, twitching to the ground. As suddenly as the anger had come it was gone. He casually nudged the carcass as he walked away. Hmm. Now I see why GENOM discontinued that line. No armor, medium strength and no heavy weapons. If he'd tried that with a C-55 the claws would have broke.

Kira walked over to the boy, his cybernetic parts operating smoothly and powerfully. What a joke; normals trying to take on the Tigers. He stood over the boy. "Had enough punk?" the big man asked. The boy smiled and pointed behind him. The cyborg froze. Implants or not, a knife at one's jugular vein tends to have that effect. How the hell had the bitch gotten away from Mike? "You better put that knife down before someone gets hurt girl," he bluffed. The pressure on his throat went up. A thin, cold sweat started running down his neck. The voice from behind him was clear and ice cold. "You're right. Someone might get hurt. That someone is you." It's difficult to distract a man with a knife at his throat. The sound of the cannon going off in the small redhead's hand was just enough to do it.

Chaz dropped the weakly struggling leader at Priss's feet. "I think there's something you wanted to say to these people."

The leader looked around in a panic. Everybody was down. Mike was curled around his broken ribs, a gleam of metal and ceramic showing where one had broken the skin. Kira had a cannon leveled at his head. The boomer was twitching but was obviously in no shape to help. Gasping for breath he turned his face to the couple standing over him. Who were these people? The man looked lenient. The girl with the red eyes looked ready to kill. Throwing pride to the wind, the leader of the infamous Cybernetic-Tigers began to grovel for his life.

Chaz finished pulling on his new boots. A little loose but otherwise decent. "What do you think Priss?" He asked displaying his new finery.

Priss, still counting the money, glanced over briefly. "Not bad." "You know something?" she said as she finished the count. "It's guys like that give gangs a bad name."

Mackie and Nene looked up from their new car. "You mean they had a good name?" Mackie asked sarcastically as he closed the hood.

Priss frowned but decided to ignore the teasing. "What I meant was that those guys had more than enough money. They were just going to rob us for kicks. They probably were hoping to hire themselves out to a yakuza group as muscle." She shook her head. "I don't know ANY oyabun stupid enough to hire guys like that."

Nene smiled. "I'm sure they would MUCH rather hire someone like you Priss." She laughed at the look on Priss's face and turned to Chaz. "I still liked the way you left them naked in front of the police box."

Chaz bowed. "An artist always likes to be appreciated." He paused thoughtfully. "I think Priss's idea was better though."

Mackie frowned. "Even they didn't deserve that." Stripping them naked and leaving them for the police was justice. Leaving them naked in front of the nearest yakuza building would have been murder.

Priss slowly grinned. "I just thought we should let them know what it felt like." Although, she admitted, it may have been the last thing they felt. She dismissed the thought. "What did you do with the boomer anyway?"

Chaz looked up from his new boots. "That? I cut it up and dropped it down the sewer. Why?" He hadn't wanted any evidence of how he'd destroyed it lying around.

Priss grinned. "Just checking to make sure you got rid of it."

Chaz ignored the subtle dig and looked over at the cash. "So how'd we make out?" Priss had nearly choked when they had gone through the thugs' wallets.

Priss fanned herself with the sheaf of bills. "Almost eight-hundred-thousand. Those jerks obviously didn't believe in banks. Together with the car I'd say we cleared almost a mil and a half." She smiled. "Not bad for an evenings work. With my share I should be able to get my bike out of hock."

Chaz turned to look at Mackie and Nene. "You guys just wanted the car right?"

Nene nodded. "You bet. With this Mackie and I won't have to ride behind you two maniacs anymore."

Mackie had his own feelings about riding behind Priss but wisely kept quiet.

Chaz put on his best hurt look. "I am NOT a maniac. I'm a very considerate driver who cares about the well being of his fellow motorists." The look changed back to his normal Cheshire cat grin. "I just do it a lot faster than others that's all."

Priss sighed. Ever since she'd shown him how to ride competently he'd been an even worse speed demon than her. Than again he could afford to be. It would take a major accident to do him any real damage. She stood up. "Well if we're going to eat we'd better get going. La Maison Rouge is out anyway. There's no way we can get a table this late."

Chaz hooked a leg over his bike. "Who's up for take out? I'm buying."

As they finished putting away their meals it occurred to Chaz that the Knight Sabers were a lot like college students. They argued a lot, they drank a lot and they never, ever turned down a free meal. He sighed. He had asked for it after all. He looked down morosely at the bill. He had bought televisions for less. Oh well. He was still ahead for the evening. He looked around. Nene and Mackie were practically asleep in each other's laps. Linna was sitting by the lamp reading and Priss was just finishing her fifth take out burger. He looked up and caught her eyes. "Where do you put it all?"

Priss smiled. "I could say that I have a fast metabolism. But, I don't. I'm just really active." She patted her stomach. "That's just enough to keep me going for the rest of the night."

"Priss. It's two in the morning. What time were you intending to go to bed? I can stay up all night. But you get grumpy when you don't get enough sleep."

Linna looked up from her book unable to resist the setup. "Then she must not get enough sleep almost every night." Ignoring the withering look Priss sent her way, she went back to her book.

Looking back to Chaz's face Priss smiled seductively. "Actually I was thinking about going to bed right now." Just to make her point completely clear she licked her lips.

Chaz hadn't been born yesterday. "Okay." Stepping around the table he picked Priss up and strode off to his room.

Linna shook her head wearily. It was a good thing Chaz lived in the basement, she mused, or Sylia would never get any sleep.

Leon pulled up in front of the shop. The old fashioned, fading neon still spelled out the name. Hmm. Otter must replace it fairly often. Leon got out of the car and set the alarm. In this neighborhood even cop cars weren't safe. Using the light from the sign, Leon made his way down the alley to the abandoned shrine. He wasn't looking forward to this. He hadn't seen her in years. With a grunt of effort he bent down and lifted the trap door in the floor. The stairs were just as depressing as he remembered. Brushing aside old cobwebs Leon continued down. The first time he'd come here was back in 2027 when he and Jeena had been checking on another cop's death; a death that had been partly his fault. Jeena had forgiven him. He'd never quite forgiven himself. Reaching the bottom of the stairs Leon walked towards the blue glow he knew was coming off a monitor. He rounded the corner.

"Evening rookie. Long time." the person in front of the monitor said. Slowly the dark hared figure spun around.

Leon took a deep breath and let it go slowly before replying. "Evening Jeena. Yeah. I guess it has." The silence built.

"What do you want Leon?" Jeena finally snapped out. "You haven't spoken to me since I got kicked out."

Leon's shoulders slumped. "I know. I'm sorry Jeena." He breathed in slowly trying to postpone the moment. "I need help."

Jeena laughed humorlessly and turned slightly back to her machine. "You always did. Actually I'm surprised it took you this long." She punched up a record on the screen. "Your partner got aced over a week ago."

Leon looked over her shoulder and saw the gleaming emblem of the ADP mainframe on the screen. Somehow he wasn't surprised that Jeena had access to the AD-Police database. She'd had a lot of friends when she left. "Jeena. The boomers didn't kill him. There was someone there in a GENOM powered armor setup." Jeena waved for him to go on. "It took almost every favor I had to get that much."

Jeena smiled. "I know. Three of them contacted me to try to find out what I knew. I finally pinned Takezaki down and forced him to tell me who was doing the asking." She stared straight at him. "That's why he was able to tell you. I told HIM." She paused to let that sink in. Her voice softened somewhat, "So the question now is: What are you going to do?"

Leon shuffled his feet. Jeena was the only one who could make him feel like a rookie again. "I was hoping you could put me in contact with the Knight Sabers."

Jeena laughed humorlessly. "Even if I could. What makes you think I would?"

Leon sank back against a cluttered shelf dislodging a couple pieces of kipple. "I've got nowhere else to go. If you can't help me I'm screwed." And Daley goes unavenged he added to himself.

Jeena sat quietly for a few minutes. "How far are you willing to go for this Leon?" she asked softly. "Once you've done this you know there won't be any going back."

Leon knew what she was saying. This was the same way that she'd gotten kicked out. "I know Jeena. If the old chief was still in charge." He shrugged. The old chief would have backed him.

Jeena raised a chromed, metallic hand to her chin. "Yeah. I know." The old man would have ripped apart GENOM tower piece by piece if he'd thought he could and be damned to the cost. She ran an appraising eye over her former partner and finally nodded. "So you're determined to go through with this huh?" Leon nodded. Jeena reached across her desk, pulled a card from under a binder with two fingers and chucked it at him. "Here."

Leon looked at the cream colored stationary that seemed so out of place in the dismal cellar. The card had only a number on it. No name. No address. "Who should I ask for?"

Jeena gave him a tight smile. "You know better than that rookie. The person who answers is the one you want to talk to." She turned back to her terminal. "Good-bye Leon," she said in obvious dismissal.

Leon nodded and started walking out. Behind him he heard her voice once more. "Leon. I'm sorry about Daley." Leon paused and nodded again. Still silent, he finished walking out.

When Leon's steps had faded away a figure separated itself from the shadow. It looked down at Jeena. "You think he'll do it?" He asked.

Jeena didn't look up. "Listen. You wanted a replacement for Nene in AD-Police right? Leon's the best choice. If you don't like my choices than don't ask me for any more help Fargo."

"I get the feeling there's more to this than a job, Jeena." The sandy-hared man replied easily.

Jeena spun in a fury. "Listen, you asshole. I agreed to help you. I've done my part. You better damn well do yours. Now get out!"

"Okay. Okay. I'm going." Fargo brushed off his tan jacket and walked towards another exit. "But, I wonder how your boy will feel when he finds out what this is going to cost him." The sound of a door closing punctuated his last word.

Jeena stroked a hand against her headband. Leon you have no idea what you're getting into.

"Okay Chaz, try it again," said Sylia's voice over the intercom

Chaz, bouncing from foot to foot in his softsuit, grimaced. Sylia had been pushing him every day for weeks to practice with the simulator. He had to admit he was getting better but it was still a royal pain. "Okay Sylia, ready when you are." He called out with an enthusiasm he didn't feel. Every time he faced the damn thing it got better. He didn't know whether it was learning or whether Sylia kept reprogramming it. Probably a little bit of both. She'd stopped letting him seeing his scores and he couldn't practice with the others because it took too long to change the programs. He consciously moved his attention away from the window and to his opponent.

Sylia watched from the opposite side of the window. Hmm. . . might be time to reprogram the simulator again. Chaz's reaction time was decreasing again. She hated having to lie to the rest of the Knight Sabers but she really couldn't let them see this right now. The program switch was actually relatively minor, it was hooking in the extra processors that slowed the startup process. Chaz had outstripped the single combat processor after the first couple days. Pretty soon his reflexes would be down near his theoretical limit. His mind could process data even better but his body couldn't move much faster. She controlled a flinch as Chaz rebounded off the glass in front of her. She'd already had to replace it once. His style was definitely evolving. Much of what he did would have been impossible for any human even in a hardsuit. The most interesting thing was that his skill really wasn't improving. He just kept getting faster. Her analytical mind shrugged. Until he reached his maximum speed his skill probably wouldn't improve much. Every time his speed went up it took one more practice session before he was used to it. Then it would go up again. She looked down at the results terminal. Adjusted level was still six. The human comparison was eighteen. She sighed. It was going to take at least one more processor before he leveled out. At least the simulator wouldn't be damaged anymore. She, Mackie, and Chaz had taken a couple days and reinforced the walls. Now Chaz could bounce around to his hearts content. Her attention was diverted back to a blinking indicator on the monitor. Here it comes. Let's see how Chaz dealt with this. Against her will, the corners of her mouth turned up in a slight grin.

If Chaz had allowed himself to sweat he would soon have been dehydrated. As it was his myomers were actually beginning to heat from the exertion. He wasn't doing too badly though, he'd managed to hit two out of the three target points that had appeared. All he needed to do was hit two more. His eyes widened. "What the hell is this Sylia?" he asked in outrage. The question wasn't quite rhetorical. The damn hologram had split in two. Each was half the size of the original. But if they split up he wouldn't be able to keep track of them as easily. They moved too fast and they only showed up in the human visible spectrum. On the up side though, each of them had a vulnerable point showing. Doing a flip and roll over the head of the top one he swung at the elusive red dot. Damn her to hell! The point had actually moved as he'd swung at it. "That's not fair!" he yelled at the smirking form of his boss. Catching his weight on his arms he rebounded back towards the center of the room. Where the hell did the other one go? He caught the flash out of the corner of his eye just in time to avoid being pegged by a seeking tentacle. Stupid thing was on the ceiling! All right. That's it! The kid gloves are off! If they can cheat so can I. Bouncing off the floor into a back flip he pulled his palms into line and let loose with two carefully detuned laser blasts. The first beam passed neatly through the vulnerable spot of the first. With a chime it dissolved. What? He hadn't really expected that to work. Sylia must have changed the simulation parameters without telling him again. He grinned. Okay let's try it again. He turned his attention to the other one just in time to catch a simulated laser blast from his opponent full in the chest. The opponent dissolved with a buzz that sounded suspiciously like a raspberry. Damn! Still swearing inwardly, he stepped out of the training room. "Well?" he asked in a disgusted voice.

Sylia smiled. "Not bad. You actually managed to get close that time. You're still not dividing your attention enough though. You should have been able to avoid that last shot."

The disgusted bioroid took the comment with bad grace. "Hmp. How long has that particular booby trap been in the system waiting for me?"

"A couple of days," she admitted. "If you had managed to hit them both with your first strike instead of singling one out you wouldn't have had to worry about it."

Chaz was disgruntled. He'd thought he'd done pretty well right up until that last part. "What would you recommend next time?"

"I know this will sound trite. But you have to be prepared for the unexpected. It's usually not the expected that gets you." She smiled to take the sting out. "So what are you going to do with the rest of your day?"

Chaz shrugged. I'm supposed to go to Priss's concert. Until then I don't have any plans."

Sylia nodded as if ticking something off on an invisible checklist. "Good. Then we have time to go over primary AI interface and subprogram integration."

Chaz groaned. He'd thought when he'd first started studying that this stuff was interesting. Now all he wanted to do was chuck the whole thing. He understood the basic concepts well enough, but Sylia was determined that he understand them at the same level she did. Chaz was getting tired of trying to live up to such an impossible standard. What made it worse was that she seemed to expect him to absorb the material at the same rate she did and sometimes got exasperated when she had to go over the material again for the fourth time. His AI memory made it easy to remember what she had said and what he'd read. The problem, however, lay in understanding the material. She seemed to grasp it instinctively. It took him a while to absorb the concepts. With a sigh he watched as Sylia set up the instruction screen. Why me?

Priss was in the middle of her last set. For the first time since she started singing, her mind really wasn't on it. The company had accepted her tape. They wanted her to fly out to the states for a recording session and contract signing. The rest of the band was thrilled for her even though they weren't included in the offer. They hadn't really expected to be. Most of her original band had drifted away a long time ago. The current members were mainly part-timers who really didn't take music seriously.

But Priss wasn't sure just how she felt about it. Most of her life she'd dreamed about this. Now that she had it, she didn't know if she wanted it or more specifically if she wanted it NOW. Taking the contract was almost the same as giving up the Knight Sabers. No. She admitted to herself. It WAS the same. A full contract meant the end of her private life. That much was obvious. Reika managed to keep her secret because the Hou Bang devoted a lot of resources to it and the recording company liked the free publicity that a recluse generated. Priss wasn't willing to do that. She wanted the crowd calling her name. Even if she was willing to go into hiding, it would still mean the end of her membership. She'd be out of Japan for several months a year touring. Breaking a gig like Hot Legs was one thing, breaking a stage engagement with thousands of seats was another. She wondered what she was going to tell Sylia. Hell, what was she going to tell Chaz?

The end of the song came breaking her reverie. Grabbing a quick sip of water from her glass she looked around the bar. Where was he? Oh there he was at the back. Good. She was going to need someone to talk to tonight. Nodding to her drummer she caught the resulting downbeat and rode the surge of music like a pro surfer.

Chaz still felt uncomfortable. After his former persona had 'died' he'd had to be reintroduced to everyone. At least he hadn't had to change the name. Everyone had just assumed that Priss was still getting over her old boyfriend.

The second time was so very different. He never realized how much people reacted to a person's appearance until he'd changed his. Harry wasn't nearly as friendly and the manager seemed downright intimidated by his new appearance. He reached down and sipped his drink. When he'd selected the new body he really hadn't thought about the consequences. Now he was stuck with it. Sylia and Nene had nearly had a fit when he mentioned that he wanted to change to something more neutral. Before he could blend into the crowd. Not anymore. Now no matter where he went, people stared. He wasn't used to the attention and didn't really like it. Not to mention the trouble it caused between him and Priss. Back when he'd had a normal body it had seemed that every woman in the bar had wanted to sit with him. He smiled woodenly to himself. Now that he looked like an Adonis he knew that hadn't been so. It no longer SEEMED like it. Every woman and even some of the more iffy guys DID want to sit with him. Even keeping up a permanent glower didn't seem to slow the onslaught. When he was younger he used to dream about this sort of thing. Be careful what you wish for, he groaned mentally, you might get it. At least the leather jacket and gloves kept the neural stimulator under control. No one could accidentally brush his skin.

He looked down thoughtfully at his drink. Coke. Not even rum and Coke. Just Coke. Alcohol had stopped doing anything for him. Without it most of the drinks just weren't worthwhile. He'd never realized how much alcohol covered up a truly abominable taste. He chuckled hollowly. Twenty-one years he waited to drink. Four years later he didn't want to. Ironic. At least the music was good. Vintage retro-thrash. Which meant, from his point of view, it sounded like the music he'd grown up with. Hot, angry filled with a bass beat that you could feel on your ribcage. Hmm. I should check to see which bands and which songs actually were produced here. It was almost a sure bet they weren't the same. A few AC/DC titles would probably go over well here. With his enhanced memory he should be able to reproduce them. Assuming of course that things weren't the same. He'd ask Priss later.

A hand dropped onto his shoulder from behind interrupted his thinking. He replied automatically. "I'm not interested tonight." The grip increased. With a surge that knocked his chair to the floor, Chaz stood and turned. The man was huge. Why is it he kept running into James Bond's old sparring buddies? Typical street trash. Faded kevlar jeans, leather coat and attitude. No cybernetics to speak of. This guy obviously had absolutely no idea what he was dealing with. "What?" he asked mildly.

The face of the thug underwent a profound change as he tried to deal with the unfamiliar question. Usually by this time a fight was in progress. He finally appeared to come to a conclusion. "Mariko's been telling me all night I should be more like you. I'm going to show her what a real man is like."

Chaz saw Harry coming up from behind but it would obviously be a minute before he or any of the others could make it. The club was too packed. The boomeroid sighed. This evening was getting worse by the moment. He'd almost never had a problem in his original body. Even the first version of the new one hadn't generated as much trouble. Now that he looked like this, it was becoming a regular part of his workout. With a weary note to his voice he advised the behemoth to drop it.

Priss's attention was slightly diverted from her performance by the sound of breaking glass. Without missing a note she let her gaze trace the sound to its source. Of course. She should have known. Chaz, beer streaming down his face, was trying to calm Big John down. John and Mariko hadn't changed their routine in all the years she'd known them. Mariko would pick out a likely looking male usually one who showed a bit of class or money. John would attack the 'man who was making eyes at his woman.' John would then let himself be beaten and thrown out after a brief spat. Mariko would them gravitate to her 'savior'. It would wind up with him taking her back to his place because 'her parents would object.' After that she'd dope a drink and they'd rob the place blind. If it turned out that the drink didn't work then John would get his rematch. That usually ended up with his surprised opponent in the hospital.

Hmm. Didn't seem to be working on Chaz though. The well-built blonde was calmly avoiding the swings, both careful and wild, that John was throwing at him. In a couple of more seconds Harry would arrive. Priss nearly missed a chord trying not to chuckle. John, infuriated at his opponents unwillingness to fight, had missed a wild swing and clipped Harry. That was a mistake. Harry had taken the all Japan full contact championship two years in a row before he got kicked out for steroid abuse. He hadn't lost any skill or speed since then. In fact, it had been argued by those he'd evicted, he'd gotten faster since he got off the boosters. She hid a wince as Harry waded into Big John. Chaz had just stepped back and let the bouncer do his job. Will wonders never cease? Most men with his abilities would have put a guy like John in a hospital at the slightest provocation. She smiled to herself. One of the many reasons she loved him. And that, of course, was one more problem she was going to have to face. Putting everything from her mind she concentrated on finishing up her set.

Chaz settled back in his chair disgruntled. It would be hard for an evening to have a less auspicious beginning. Ah well. Priss's set should be finishing up in a minute or two, then they could talk. He felt another tap on his shoulder. He sighed. "I'm with someone." The beautiful young woman in the skintight jeans slid her hand down his arm to his hand as she sat down. She smiled brightly.

Mariko gave the tall blonde her best impish grin. "If that's true then where is she? Besides, I just wanted to thank you for rescuing me from that brute."

Chaz's ears perked. Just the stress analysis of her voice alone told him that was a lie. But it was a smooth one.

She gently caressed his hand, resisting his small effort to disengage. "My names Mariko. What's yours?" she continued easily.

He smiled. "Chaz. Really. It was nothing. I would have been glad to do it for anybody." Behind the girl's back he could see Priss coming down off the stage. Using a bit more force he finally managed to recover his hand. This should be good. "Actually I really am with someone. She's just busy right now."

Mariko, not used to being turned down, frowned ever so slightly. "What kind of woman would leave her man alone in a place like this?" she challenged.

Chaz grinned. Priss had heard her. With a wave he indicated the fuming Priss standing behind her. "That kind."

Mariko turned like a predator getting ready to fight for prey. Then she caught sight of Priss. "Priss?" she squeaked as the color ran from her face like cheap paint. "Listen Priss. I didn't know." The frightened woman stammered as she got unsteadily to her feet. "Really. If I'd known it was you. . ."

Priss smiled like a cheetah running down prey. "You made a mistake this time Mariko. If he'd hit John." She indicated Chaz. "Your boyfriend wouldn't have gotten back up for at least a week. Now, I think it's time you left." With a look like a cornered mouse Mariko scrambled free of the table and took off into the crowd.

Chaz snickered. "I expected you to come down harder on her Priss."

Priss slipped easily into the vacated chair. "I couldn't be too hard on her. They used to be part of the gang I grew up with." She shrugged. "They just never grew out of it."

Chaz sipped at his drink. "Is that why you left? You just outgrew that kind of thing?"

Priss nodded. "That and I was getting tired of cleaning up the other members shit. It seemed like every time I turned around one of them was getting into trouble." She picked up her glass idly. "Sometimes I wonder what would have happened to me if I had stayed in." She took a big swallow. "How come you ordered Sprite for me?" she asked nearly spitting out the liquid.

Chaz smirked and wagged a finger at her. "Ah Ah. It was either that or Coke. You told me not to let you drink when you were still singing. Remember?"

Priss made a face. "I forgot. But, I really would have preferred the Coke."

Chaz laughed. "I'll keep that in mind." He pushed his barely touched glass across the table. "Here. You can have mine."

Priss grabbed the glass and swallowed deeply. "Ah. That's more like it!"

Chaz sipped at the abandoned Sprite. "So what did you want to talk to me about?"

Priss looked uncomfortable. "I really don't want to talk about this in public." She nodded towards the stage door.

Chaz nodded easily and rose from the chair. "No problem. I had a couple of things I needed to talk to you about anyway."

Nene lay in the tank. No matter how many times everyone told her this wouldn't hurt she still had a hard time believing it. When all was said and done this was still a major bit of surgery. With a flinch she felt the nutrient fluid start to flow into the tube. Through the clear plexi-alloy she could see Mackie smiling down at her. Without him she wouldn't have had the courage to get in. She'd been all right up to the end and then had a failure of nerve. Mackie had held her all night while she shook with trepidation and fear. In the morning he'd walked down with her. He'd even promised to stay with her until she woke back up. She gasped a little as the nutrient fluid rose over her face. She knew she couldn't drown but the inborn fears of the body were making it difficult to believe. With a last look at Mackie she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. A spasmodic cough racked her as the warm heavy fluid filled her lungs. Through the haze of the fluid she saw Mackie still smiling down at her. The next time she saw him it would be with new eyes.

Sylia sat alone in the computer room. All around her screens and computers awaited her attention. For the past several hours she'd sat there not seeing them. The single report still glowing in the screen directly in front of her. Mason was dead. Had been dead for days. She still wasn't sure how she felt. Her first reaction had been rage. She'd wanted to kill him herself. Then came shame at the thought that she was capable of such a reaction. Then had come a kaleidoscope of reactions as memories and feelings mixed. Now several hours later she'd managed to calm herself. The only question now was: what did she do now? The main focus for her rage at GENOM was gone. She could and did hate Quincy but not with the same loathing she'd felt for Mason. Maybe it was for the best. With Mason gone she could keep a clearer head when she thought about GENOM. She did her best to ignore the flash of anger that belied the thought.

"You want to what?" Priss was aghast. "What do you mean you want to try writing music?" Of all the lame-brain and egotistical ideas he'd had. This was, by far, the topper.

Chaz shrugged. "You said that most of the bands I knew didn't exist here. That means that this world never got a chance to hear a lot of the music I grew up with. I just want to try it."

Priss leaned over the table. "And what makes you think that you'll be able to do it?" She hissed angrily. "It's not easy taking a tune out of your head and putting it on paper you know." Even given Chaz's special abilities he couldn't do that. Priss stopped for a moment to think. Could he?

Chaz shrugged. "I'm not talking about making a piece of music from scratch Priss. Most of the work is going to be done by my AI. All I have to do is play back the music in my head. After the AI gets done processing the melody and lyrics I'll just need a little help polishing it." He grinned sheepishly. "I was kinda hoping you could help me with that part."

Priss looked away. "I'm not sure I'm going to be able to," she said quietly.

Huh? "Why not?"

Priss took a deep breath. "EMI offered me a recording contract. I've haven't decided whether to take it or not."

Chaz sat back heavily into his chair. "I don't know what to say. . .I mean they would be fools not to offer you a contract. . .You'd have to leave the Knight Sabers though wouldn't you?" She have to leave you too, the selfish part of his mind added.

Priss leaned forward and put her elbows up on the table. "I don't know what I'm going to do! I can't have it both ways! If I take the contract I'll HAVE to leave the only family I've got. If I don't the chance may never come again. I don't know what the fuck to do!"

Chaz shrugged helplessly. "I don't know what to tell you Priss. This isn't the kind of problem I can really help you with. I'll support you either way. But, I can't pick or even recommend one without it blowing up in my face."

Priss's shoulders slumped. She hadn't really expected him to make it easier for her. "What are you going to do if I decide to take it?" she asked softly.

Chaz looked away from her soul searching eyes. "I.. . . I've got to stay here." His head drooped a little. "I owe Sylia too much to just up and walk away." He forced a small smile. "Besides, I've come to like being a Knight Saber. I can't think of anything else I'd rather be doing."

Priss nodded slowly. She could understand that. She loved the adrenaline charge too. Besides what was he going to do in the US? Be a roadie? He could play but he didn't like the stage.

She sighed and sat back against the chair. So those were her choices. She could either give up the Knight Sabers and Chaz or give up her dream. What a fucking choice. "C'mon."

Chaz stood and followed her out of the dressing room. "Where we going?"

Priss shook her hair out as she took off her wig. "I don't care. I just think better on my bike."

Chaz rolled the power on as they raced through the curve. Priss hadn't said two words to him since they'd started riding two hours ago. Absently dodging a slower car he glanced over at her. Was it just his imagination or did it look like she was crying? He didn't dare offer a shoulder to cry on. Priss hated pity. If she needed it she'd ask. So what ARE you going to do if she decides to take the contract? Curl up and die? Why? It's not like you'd never see her. No, actually you wouldn't see her much would you? She'd be wrapped up in her music and you'd be here fighting the good fight. It wouldn't work. Too much stress, too much separation. Nothing to do about it until she decides. A corner of his mind pulled his attention back to the present. Priss's bike was slowing down. Easing up on the gas, he coasted to a stop beside her. "You need to stop for a while?" he asked supportively.

Priss turned a saddened smile on him and gestured to her dash. The electronic fuel gauge read dead empty for both the main tank and the reserve. Thoughts revolved in Chaz's head and quickly came together to form a conclusion. She must have ignored the telltale for over half an hour he decided. Snapping off the power on his own bike and removing his helmet, Chaz dismounted and started to push. A light touch on his arm stopped him. He turned to see Priss, helmet under her arm, looking up at him.

Priss felt the tears welling up in her eyes and for the first time in years didn't bother to hold them back. Wordlessly she leaned against the man she loved.

Chaz just held her. He didn't know anything else he could do. Anything he said now would be a mistake. For, what seemed like hours, they stood there, bathed in the light from passing headlights and streetlights.

Priss slowly pulled away from him and stepped back to look up into his eyes. Her eyes had long since dried and the weariness that follows a great release was beginning to drag her to unconsciousness. Hesitantly her hand reached out and cupped the back of his neck. With gentle pressure she brought his lips down to meet her own.

Sylia looked up from her console and stared into space while she organized her thoughts. She'd been researching the new trends in GENOM for days. Something was very wrong. She couldn't put her finger on it but the feeling was unmistakable. GENOM's ICE made it almost impossible for anyone too break in. But, if you knew where to look you could gather enough secondary data to get a good idea of what was going on in the towers. GENOM was humming like an angry hive. People that lived in the arcology hadn't been as active outside the tower. Those who didn't live in the tower came early and stayed late. But GENOM production hadn't changed or, more specifically, the number of shipments leaving the production facilities hadn't changed. Which raised a question. Why was GENOM stockpiling? Their high turnover was one of the foundations of their financial success. By stockpiling they were losing, according to her admittedly conservative estimate, on the close order of a four hundred million a day. It wouldn't hurt them financially much. But it went against company policy. What made it worse was that they appeared to be stockpiling combat boomers. What the hell was scaring Quincy so much? No-one else had the power to authorize something like this. She chewed her lip thoughtfully for a moment before she caught herself. She hadn't succumbed to that habit in years. She was missing something. Pushing the worry from her head she turned back to her terminal. If there was something out there she'd find it.

Chaz opened his eyes and looked down at the beautiful woman in his arms. For the last time? He didn't want to think so. Priss had been quiet all the way home. She'd parked her bike in the garage and led him to bed. They'd made love in silence and she had fallen asleep still clinging tightly to him. Moving slowly he pulled the blanket up around her shoulders. He watched her eyelids flicker and wondered what she was dreaming about. In sleep her face smoothed and the anger which always seemed to lie below the surface faded. Awake she was animated and gorgeous. Asleep her face took on the features of a slightly mischievous angel. His thoughts surprised him. Why did he love her so much? Despite what he'd said to Linna, he truly did love her more than just as a friend. Practically since the day he'd met he'd been asking himself that. He couldn't just write it off to hormones anymore. What was it someone said? 'Love is when anothers happiness is required for yours. When your life means less to you than anothers.' Certainly by those standards he loved her. Then again he'd come to love all of them. So why did Priss affect him so? Respondeth sayeth not. Sighing he pulled her closer. All he could do is wait and hope.

The old man slowly rolled the trash can to the curb and looked down the street expectantly. 'Any minute now,' he thought. A figure dressed in a skin-tight metallic silver leotard jogged up the street and passed the man who stood watching the fair female form in admiration. Wiping the sweat from her forehead with the towel hung around her neck she continued jogging down the street. The man's gaze followed her form and noted that her backside was in just as good shape as her front. He had been a widower for years but he still appreciated a finely tuned body. His eyes watched her until she rounded a corner four blocks away. Sighing heavily he wrapped his arms around his torso to fight off the cold and walked back to his house. There were good ways and bad ways to start a day. He considered getting up to see a body like that jog by one of the former.

As Linna jogged around the corner she checked her watch. Good she was still ahead of schedule. She only had five more kilometers to go. Her heartbeat was right where it should be and the weather, though a touch cold, was excellent. Smiling she increased her pace a little. On a day like today she felt like she could run forever. Cold air whipped down her throat to her lungs leaving a fresh, clean feeling behind with every breath. It must have been horrid jogging through Tokyo back before they had cheap electric and gasohol cars. The few gasoline engines left were so heavily taxed that they were only used in rare cases.

She finally rounded the final corner and started up the two and a half kilometer hill that led home. She had time to take a quick shower and eat before she had to drive to work. In a couple of weeks she hoped to be able to move closer to the dojo. Granted the area wasn't as nice but the convenience would make it worthwhile.

Clearing the thoughts from her head she concentrated on her lesson plan for the day. She was close to having a big enough core group to take over teaching the beginning students. She wished she could keep the students longer than the few months they were being sent to her for. It was going to be difficult to let the first group go and start from scratch again. On the other hand most of them had made enough progress to guarantee a good reception when the returned to the Hou Bang. Many of them would undoubtedly come back on their own time. Her thoughts were distracted by the familiar sound of breathing coming up from behind. She could slow down but he'd made such a stink about it last time that she'd rather eat glass than do it again.

Keith, dressed in a blue jogging suit, came up slowly on Linna. Three weeks of this and she was still running the pants off him. Gritting his teeth he picked up his pace and drew even with the younger woman. "Hiya Linna. See the old lech today?"

Linna frowned at her student and picked up the pace slightly. "He's not a lech Keith. He's just a nice old man. If he enjoys looking at me enough to come out in the cold then he's welcome to."

Keith shrugged, neither apologizing nor arguing. She'd made it plain enough she didn't care for his jealousy. But he was damned if he'd apologize for the way he was. He noticed he was slipping behind and picked up his pace again. Despite the time they'd spent together she refused to let him too deeply into her life. Friends, yes. Lovers, yes. Anything more? A deep and resounding no. He didn't even know where she went off to. Several times her beeper had gone off and she'd left. Just like that. No explanation, nothing. He'd been in the game too long not to get the hint. Whatever she did on the side was apparently even more dangerous than running a training school for the Hou Bang and it's associates. Which raised other questions he had been unable to get answers to. Setting his teeth he picked up the pace and passed her.

Linna growled to herself as Keith passed her and continued down the street. She could have passed him again and left him eating dust, but she refused to upset her routine for such a macho piece of bullshit. She was beginning to regret making him her co-instructor. He was good. There was no arguing that. But his ego had never seemed to get over the blow of being beaten by her. That was probably why he'd tried so hard and so earnestly to get her to go to bed with him. He must've figured that if he couldn't dominate her in class he'd dominate her in bed. It must've galled him to find out he couldn't do that either. In the past couple weeks his efforts to dominate her had become almost intolerable. In class he was meek as a lamb absorbing earnestly every word she said. Probably planning on using it against her as soon as he thought he could get away with it. Out of class his personality changed to that of a stereotyped sexist male.

Maybe she should allow him to go back to the Hou Bang. He wasn't going to be happy here until he felt he had her under his thumb. She was just going to have to find another co-instructor that was all. Until then she was just going to have to put up with him. One thing was certain though. She was damned if she'd go to bed with him again. She wished she had the kind of relationship the Priss and Chaz seemed to. Despite their personality conflicts they were as tight as could be.

Linna sighed and thought about her friends, her family. She loved them all without reservation. She often wondered if they knew just how much. Even before Chaz had shown up, she had often fantasized about going to bed with her fellow Knight Sabers. Since then he'd just been added to the list. She would trust any of them with her life. Against the standard they set Keith just didn't measure up. Thoughts of her friends pushed Keith from her mind and allowed her to finish her jog with a smile on her face.

Mackie woke and grabbed at the carafe of water sitting next to his cot. Having satisfied his thirst he crawled wearily from his makeshift bed and shuffled over to the bio-sculpt-tank. Deep in the blue-green nutrient fluid and swirling micro-machines he could dimly make out Nene's form. Only a couple of more days he told himself. Sitting back down on his cot he grabbed the sandwich that Irene had left for him last night. Quickly finishing the snack, he grabbed the carafe and finished the remaining water. Place was hotter than Hades despite the air conditioning.

The Changs would have been glad to have him over at their place while Nene's reconstruction was being done. But, he had promised her he would stay by her side until she came back out of the fluid. That she couldn't see him and wouldn't know the difference didn't matter. He'd promised. Giving a sigh, he opened a half-read technical journal and picked up where he'd left off the day before.

Priss curled closer to Chaz and refused to wake up. If she admitted she was awake she'd have to deal with the day and she wasn't quite ready to do that yet. She'd made her decision. It was already killing her, but she'd made it. Her dream could be put off for a while. The reasons she eventually choose had surprised her. It wasn't that what they did was important. It was. But in the end the reason she couldn't leave was she couldn't bear the thought of one of her family dying without her. She felt Chaz shift and pull the covers up over her shoulders. God she loved them! Denying it, even to herself, had become a waste of time. If one of them died because she wasn't there she'd never forgive herself. She clutched the warmth of the love close to her heart. It had been so long since she had loved anyone. What was she going to do about her music though? Having decided it was the second most important thing in her life didn't mean she could ignore it. Maybe Sylia would have some ideas. Smiling to herself she opened her eyes and looked up at Chaz. "Good Morning."


	6. Chapter 6

Quincy stood in his new office looking down at his city. It had taken some serious bribes to persuade the government to replace the old head of AD-Police. It was a shame really. Except for his attitude towards the Knight Sabers he was more than competent. Quincy frowned. He could not afford that attitude now. Fujiura was a political pensioner. He would do anything necessary to save his job. In every way Quincy respected the old chief more. That didn't change what needed to done. He turned his back on the city and faced Madigan. "The nano-tank is prepared?"

Madigan nodded. "Yes sir. The old program was removed and the new one put in place." She paused. "Sir. How can you be sure that the Chang Conglomerate will let the Knight Sabers use it?" Nano-tanks were the single most expensive piece of equipment on the planet. If the Knight Sabers didn't use it, then they had essentially given this one to the enemy.

Quincy looked at his assistant. Madigan had stabilized into the kind of professional Quincy needed. Her rivalry with Mason had tempered her mind into a blade of steel. "Know your enemy and know yourself Madigan. With those two pieces of knowledge you will usually win any conflict." He paused. "Four months ago the nano-tank was programmed to make any boomer AI produced in it unstable. That would have resulted in the Chang Conglomerate's eventual demise over time. We can no longer afford to wait. The alliance between the Knight Sabers and the Hou Bang must be stopped. If the Hou Bang were to mass produce the combat armor of the Knight Sabers they would become a serious threat."

Madigan thought about it. "So you think that the Chang Conglomerate will give the nano-tank to the Knight Sabers to facilitate production of new suits. When the new program is triggered the result should destroy them." She paused thoughtfully. "Why don't we add a radio link to the tank. Using that we could acquire the Knight Sabers technology for ourselves."

Quincy nodded. He had considered it. "That idea is, unfortunately, unlikely to work and it may lead to either the Chang Conglomerate or the Knight Sabers discovering the hidden program. No, I believe the program alone has a better chance for success. When playing against a highly intelligent opponent it is better not to complicate your plans. If the program works as we expect it to we will soon have their technology anyway."

Madigan nodded. "So now it's just a matter of allowing the Hou Bang to 'steal' the nano-tank."

Quincy smiled coldly. "Exactly."

Matter Over Mind Productions

Presents

Mega-Tokyo 2032

The Knight Sabers

"A Certain Point of View."

Chapter 6 "The Best Laid Plans"

Copyright (c) 2005 Charles S. Stitman

Chaz shook his golden hair out of his eyes again as he turned the KnightWing towards the rendezvous. Despite his relatively cool exterior Chaz was very excited. He'd been waiting for this day for over a month. Chin had called and told him to bring the KnightWing back to Hawaii for delivery of the nano-tank. He also had to pick up Mackie and Nene. He grinned. Both of them had been extremely quiet about what she looked like now. He hadn't even been able to talk Irene into telling him. Ah well. . .He'd see her soon anyway. He looked down at the navigation console. Hmm. . . Another hour at the least. It had taken him almost a week to learn to fly the KnightWing. He was constantly amazed out how much his learning curve had changed. It would normally have taken him a month to learn how to fly something like this. His responses had adjusted in an hour and he had managed to pick up the mental part of it fairly quickly. It was just a matter of experience now.

He ran another complete system check on the plane. He didn't really expect to find anything wrong. There just wasn't much else to do. He grimaced as his code breaking program gave him another no go. Shit! Mackie had those video files locked down tighter than a virgin's corset. He had Newton trying since takeoff to break the damn thing.

/Well/

-Sorry boss.- Came the light contralto of Newton. -Mackie has that thing sealed tight.-

Figures. If anyone ever found them he would die a gruesome, painful death.

/Okay. Leave it alone for now./

-Gotcha boss-

Chaz winced. Despite frequent attempts to expunge certain parts of the personality overlay he was still unable to rid it of the habit of calling him that. Even Nene had been unable to help. The code was designed to alter itself to fit his system. The second she had finished uploading the damn thing she'd pretty much ensured that no one could change it. It could have been worse. He could have carrying around Priss's personality inside his head. The Nene overlay he could largely ignore and at times it was actually useful. Sighing deeply he brought the KnightWing closer to the ground and prepared for landing.

With a pneumatic hiss, the gangway sprang to the ground. Chaz ignored the ladder and sprang quickly to the ground. Already, three technicians were throwing camouflage over the black skinned craft. Irene, Mackie, Kou and a beautiful red-head that had to be Nene waited off to the side as attendants rushed up to begin loading the nano-tank into the sealed off cargo area and refueling the KnightWing. Chaz fully scanned the red-head gave a mental whistle. Yup. Definitely Nene. He grinned as the group surrounded him. "C'mon folks. It hasn't been that long," he said as he returned hugs and handshakes all around.

Nene looked up at him serenely. "Well?" she asked.

Chaz's grin grew even larger. "What do you want me to say? You look phenomenal." In truth she looked even better than that. Whoever had done the bio-sculpt had taken Mackie's ideas and run with them. Her skin glowed with life and Nene's eyes had become positively magnetic. She stood a little taller than before and her hair looked like copper-red silk in sunlight. She was, he admitted, one of the most impressive women it had ever been his pleasure to see. He wondered if she knew what this was going to do to her life. Probably not. He sighed internally and kept the grin despite provocation. "So what do you people say to partying our brains out until it's time to go home tomorrow?"

Kou frowned slightly and looked as if he was going to object. Before he could open his mouth to say one word he was shouted down by the other three.

Chaz swept his hand towards the helicopter. "Great! Let's head into Honolulu then."

Chaz looked out of the helicopter and tried to fight off the depression that threatened him. The city seemed to fill the island. When he had left, only South shore had a serious problem with urbanization. Now all of Oahu looked like a scaled down Mega-Tokyo. Hell, even half the signs were in Japanese. Not that that was such a huge change.

Focusing his eyes tightly he looked at Hanauma Bay as they passed by. Not too bad. The coral even seemed to have made some recovery since he'd last seen it. Either that or someone had genetically engineered a polyp that could take the punishment. Every year thousands of tourists had mobbed the snorkeling Mecca and crushed the coral into near extinction. Even in his own time people had been warned that the reef ecosystem couldn't handle the pressure. He sighed tiredly.

Nene looked up from her conversation with Irene. "What's wrong Chaz?" she asked in a concerned voice.

Chaz waved off the question. "Nothing. Just comparing my memories with what's here now." He looked up at her stunned expression. "I'm sorry. I thought I'd told you. I lived in Hawaii for almost six years." He gestured to the urban jungle beneath them. "With the exception of the coastline almost everything has changed." That wasn't entirely true. In some places even the coastline was altered. Wiping the thoughts from his mind he put a smile back on his face. "So. What are we going to do tonight?" With a rise in volume everybody tried to express their thoughts at once. In the enthusiasm Chaz's earlier feelings evaporated. Mostly.

"Do we really HAVE to go in here?" Chaz asked hopefully as he looked at the club's entrance.

Nene, dressed to the nines in a green, skin tight dress grabbed his arm to drag him inside. "Of course we do. It's the oldest nightclub in Waikiki. It also plays the latest J-pop."

Chaz shrugged and allowed himself to be dragged inside. He knew all of that already. When he had lived in Hickam AFB years ago Maharaja's had been one of his main hangouts. He'd kind of hoped that they would go to one of the newer clubs. Ah well. . .at least he knew what to expect here.

Mackie held his breath as Chaz approached the dance floor again. After getting over his initial embarrassment at being the only dancer on the floor Chaz had turned out to be quite good at it. No, Mackie corrected himself. That was kind of like saying Linna was quite a good dancer. While there were obvious differences in style it was obvious that Chaz was as good in his way as Linna was in hers. It helped, of course, that his body didn't get tired and was capable of just about anything he could imagine.

Mackie had to admit that it had been a very interesting evening. First, the gate cashier had tried to stiff them for a sixty dollar entrance fee. Chaz had soon straightened that out. Turns out that you only had to pay that if you were a tourist who didn't tip. Chaz didn't have that problem and refused to pay the premium.

Second, Chaz had been attracting women all night. At first Mackie had been envious. HE'D never attracted women. At least not like that. The longer the night wore on though, the more he saw that the older man didn't like and didn't want the attention. Some of the women had gone so far as to call him a faggot as they stormed off. Chaz had just shrugged and gone back to sipping his Coke.

It hadn't helped that he and Kou had walked in with the two most beautiful women in Hawaii on their arms. This had the net effect of increasing attention turned their way and highlighting the fact that Chaz wasn't here with anyone.

That brought him neatly to the third most interesting thing this evening. Not necessarily the third nicest. Kou hadn't had any problem keeping men away from Irene. By and large she took care of the problem herself. Usually she turned down their offers gently. In tougher cases one glare from her was enough to send even the most dedicated pick-up artist looking for easier prey. Nene on the other hand seemed to revel in the attention she received. Mackie reached over and sipped morosely at his bourbon. Turning his head to the side a little he could see where Nene was still dancing on the raised stage surrounded by admirers. He could understand it of course. This was the first time she'd been out in public in her new body. If she wanted to show it off a bit that was her right. He just wished he knew a way to convince himself of that. Slamming back the rest of his drink, he flagged down a waitress to order another.

Kou staggered back to the table with a still bubbling Irene on his arm. In theory he was in better shape than her. However, as many men had found out to their dismay, raw physical stamina and dancing stamina are not always equal. Sitting heavily, he snatched up his water glass and drained it. Much better. Resting comfortably in his chair he allowed his gaze to slowly take in the room. Still no sign of trouble. Good. He didn't feel like hurting anyone tonight. He hadn't really liked the idea of coming into the city without bodyguards but Irene had been adamant. Finishing his scan of the room he let his gaze fall on Irene who was still talking animatedly to Nene. Hmm. . . Something missing. Pulling out a mental checklist he began to quickly review items. One didn't survive long in his profession by being less than fast and thorough. He spotted the problem in seconds. "Where's Mackie?" he said looking around. Nene blinked and looked up guiltily. Kou stifled a comment. She had been ignoring him all evening. Small wonder that the boy had wandered off. Kou frowned. He couldn't leave these two until Chaz came back from the floor. Damn. He scanned the crowd again. Still no sign of the teen. Kou reached into his coat and pulled out a pocket flashlight. With a quick flip of his wrist he turned on the beam and aimed it at Chaz's head.

The result was all he'd hoped for. With a theatrical flourish Chaz finished dancing and exited the floor as smoothly as if he'd rehearsed it. The white suited man walked to the table and sat. "What's up Kou?" He glanced around as he downed his Coke. "Where's Mackie?" he asked as he finished his drink. Kou nodded to himself. It had taken him the same amount of time to notice the absence. "Exactly. As best I can figure he was here fifteen minutes ago."

Chaz looked over at Nene. "I thought you were with him." It wasn't quite a rebuke.

"I was out on the dance floor up until a few minutes ago. I didn't realize he'd wandered off." She had the grace to look embarrassed. "So should we look for him?" she asked meekly.

Chaz shook his head. "No. You two stay with Kou. I'll find him." Ignoring her protests Chaz got up and moved steadily through the crowd in search of his prey.

Irene looked over at Kou. "Aren't you going to help?"

Kou swirled the water around in his glass thoughtfully before answering. "He's right. One of us has to stay with you two and he has a much better chance of finding Mackie."

Irene was indignant. "I'm not a child you know. I can take care of myself!"

Kou shrugged it off. "It's not just a matter of taking care of yourself. You sometimes forget. But this is part of my job."

Irene gave him a withering glare. "And when you slept with me the other night? Was that just part of the job too?"

Nene stifled a gasp. THAT was definitely hitting below the belt.

Kou seemed to take it in stride. "You know it wasn't. And if you would stop acting foolish and think for a moment you'd know why."

Irene rocked back as if she'd been slapped. Fire roared behind her eyes for a moment before cooling to a more reasonable level. "I know Kou. I'm sorry. I just resent being in a position where a bodyguard of any kind becomes necessary. You know that."

Kou nodded. Even as a child Irene had objected to the constant supervision and shadowing that was a fact of life for anyone with real power.

Chaz looked around carefully. Hmm. Not in the bar anyway. Chaz walked down the stairs and out the door, relaxing slightly as the door closed and damped the blaring stereo. Where would he go if he thought he'd been jilted by his girlfriend? The hotel? Nah. Hmm. Chaz inhaled deeply, allowing the night air to trickle across his palate. Not too long ago anyway. Mackie's scent should be easy enough to follow. With a quick step Chaz strode off into the neon-lit night.

Mackie tossed another stone into the water and watched it vanish with the next wave. What was the matter with her? She hadn't said ten words to him all night. At first it had seemed like a dream. Nene was every man's fantasy. When she'd left the bio-sculpt tank he'd thought his heart would burst. He'd spent most of day in front of the mirror watching her look at herself. So why was she ignoring him now? Story of his life it seemed. As soon as things start to look up the universe poked him in the gut again. Behind him he heard a shuffle as rocks moved under a boot. He appreciated the politeness. Chaz could have come up on him without any noise at all if he had wished to. Mackie turned and looked over his shoulder. The boomeroid didn't seem to be paying much attention to him at the moment. He was just standing on top of the wave break looking out to sea. Wonder what he sees when he looks out there? Lucky bastard. He doesn't even have to try to get girls. What does he do with it? Nothing! What a waste. Turning his attention away from Chaz, Mackie looked back at the ocean.

"Feeling sorry for yourself?" Chaz's voice said softly behind him.

Mackie's head came up in anger then settled down again. How could he understand?

Chaz ignored the obvious snub. "You aren't being entirely fair.. Granted Nene should've have paid a bit more attention to you. But that's no excuse to walk off like a wounded puppy."

Mackie steadfastly ignored him. What did he know about it? Stupid android probably didn't have feelings anyway. The more rational part of his mind knew that was unfair. The emotional part didn't give a damn.

Chaz looked down at Mackie. Typical teen dementia. God. Is this how I used to react? What a moron. I don't know how people put up with me. Giving a mental sigh Chaz knelt down behind Mackie. If you want to reason with mule first you have to get its attention. Grabbing the teen by his jeans and shirt Chaz tossed him into the water. Sitting himself on the vacated rock he waited patiently until Mackie's torrent of verbal abuse petered out. It went on for quite a while and Chaz was impressed by the flow of invective. Not once did Mackie repeat himself. Giving him a grin, the boomeroid waved the fuming adolescent back to shore. "You done?" he asked politely. The glare Mackie sent his way was definitely of the 'If looks could kill' variety. So it was just as well that they couldn't. "Good. Feeling better now?"

Mackie's face twisted in thought. The odd thing was he did feel better. Not phenomenal, just better. Reluctantly, he nodded.

"Good. Now maybe you'll listen for a moment." He paused and looked down at the shivering youth. "Here." Mackie took the proffered suit jacket and huddled on the rock. "Why did you walk out?"

The rage built and spilt out of the teen. "She was ignoring me! I waited outside of that tank for days while she was in there!"

"Uh huh. So rather than share her a little or telling her that you felt left out, you'd rather run off in a jealous snit. Real bright. Did it ever occur to you that maybe she wasn't used to the attention?" Mackie shrugged. "Right. Probably never even crossed your mind. A couple things to think about. One, Nene loves you. Not those guys she was dancing with. Two, she's not going to know how to deal with people's reactions to her. Right now it seems great. Wait a couple weeks. That's when the realization will settle in." He frowned at Mackie's skeptical expression and shook his head. "Be very careful what you wish for. You might get it. Nene's probably going to regret becoming as beautiful as she is." Chaz eyes stared hard into Mackie's. "That's when YOU are going to have to support her. If you don't you'll lose her forever. THAT I can promise." You'll deserve it too. He relaxed back into a normal posture. "Now let's see if we can't get you dry, cleaned up and back before the club closes."

Priss was pissed. Not surprising to those that knew her. Priss seemed to be upset roughly forty percent of the time. Another thirty percent she spent sleeping. Which means if you met her on the street you had, at best, about a fifty-fifty chance of catching her in a good mood. If you were lucky, the rest of the time her ire wouldn't be directed at you. The hotheaded vocalist grinned in grim satisfaction. Chaz wasn't lucky. Now it was just a matter of informing him of his situation. In the week since he'd gotten back from Hawaii Priss had seen him a total of three times. He hadn't even called. Well… yes he had, but not enough. The singers lips quirked a bit. To put it in his own words, Chaz was up the proverbial waste water channel without a means of locomotion.

If she could've she would have slammed the door. As it was she gave it a kick as it closed. Not quite as good, but it made her feel better. Stepping into the nano-tank storage room, Priss checked for signs of her quarry. Nothing. Just the nano-tank and its controlling computers beeping disturbed the silence. A three dimensional image of the tank's current project spun silently above a holo-stage. Where was that misbegotten asshole? Sylia had said she could find him down here somewhere.

Curious despite herself she moved closer to the holographic projection stage. She quickly stifled an urge to drool. THAT'S what he was working on? She considered it for a moment. For this she could ALMOST forgive him. Checking the controls carefully, Priss stopped the spin to look more closely. The bike hung in the air like a mechanics wet dream. From what she could see it looked as if it had been designed to be built in a nano-tank. It had the smooth, almost melted, look that typified such creations. Hardly daring to breathe Priss stepped over to the transparent plas-steel cylinder and looked inside. Half hidden by the clouds of industrious nanites, the frame of the bike floated serenely in a support net. Mentally, Priss licked her chops. She wanted it. There was not a doubt in her mind that she'd get it either. Running her hand over the cylinder she whispered. "You're mine."

"Think so huh?" Chaz said with a chuckle behind her.

Priss fought the urge to jump. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Quickly calming herself she turned around slowly giving him her best glare. Years of street training kept her rock steady. When in doubt go on the offensive. "Yes I do!" she hurled back at him. "You owe me this for ignoring me for the past week!"

Chaz leaned back against the security door with an amused expression on his face. "Really?" he asked with enough sarcasm in his voice to drop a buffalo.

Priss didn't even blink. "Goddamn straight you do! You fly off to Hawaii leaving me behind, on a weekend no less! You come back and sequester yourself in this technological hermitage for a week without giving me even a single phone call! You owe me more than just the bike you owe me dinner too!"

Chaz grinned. He could've argued that he had seen her a few times in the past week. However, he knew from experience that she would find some way to wiggle out of it or turn it against him. Instead he waved at the tank. "Alright. If you can ride her she's yours."

Joy lit up Priss's face momentarily. Then it clouded over with suspicion. "What are you up to? You never give in that easily."

Chaz shrugged. "I meant what I said. IF you can ride it you can have it. Of course the engine won't even start without a direct radio command from my AI."

Priss looked at him aghast. "You absolute bastard! You did that on purpose!" She looked back at the bike naked longing written all over her face. "I can't even borrow it?" she said lustfully.

Chaz walked up behind her. "Nope. But I wouldn't let that bother you too much. Mackie and I designed one for you too. It doesn't have this one's options but it'll outperform any other bike on the street."

Priss spun and threw her arms around his neck. "Really?" She watched his nod. She flashed him a coy grin. "You may just get out of this in one piece yet. When will it be finished?"

Chaz waved back at the tank. "When that one's finished we can start yours right away. Sylia refuses to produce any of the suits or other sensitive equipment in that thing until she's finished going over the programming. She thinks GENOM might have pulled a fast one. Until then, no Knight Saber equipment gets built. Personally I think she's being a little paranoid."

Priss frowned a little. Sylia wasn't paranoid, just extremely and justifiably cautious. "So why is she letting you build this?"

"It's all off-the-shelf technology that GENOM already has. Besides there's no independent control structure in it. It has a complex computer but no AI. The new suits will have subsidiary AIs. We can't afford to have those screw up." Reaching down Chaz swept Priss up into a carrying position. So what do you want to do for the next fourteen hours while we wait for it to finish?"

Priss smiled languidly. "I think we'll find something to keep us occupied."

Chuckling slightly Chaz carried Priss out of the room.

In the vacated room the nano-tank continued its work. Deep in the heart of the support fluid a cloud of nanites gathered. When the cloud had collapsed to a small, black sphere an intelligence awoke. For the fourth time it checked the current design for certain conditions and parts. For the fourth time it failed to find what it was looking for. The intelligence was not disappointed. That was not part of its programming. It was as patient as time itself. With a mental shrug the intelligence gave the signal to separate. Saving the thoughts of the last few seconds in their structures the nanites separated to rejoin their brethren. The control computers noted an interruption and readjusted their time completion estimates by a couple seconds. Work returned to normal.

Ruddy orange sunlight streamed almost unwillingly into the apartment. It wasn't the kind of place it felt welcome. The sun slowly rose and the stream of light passed over the discarded cartons of takeout Chinese and empty bottles of Wild Turkey. Stretched out in a completely disarrayed bed a fully clothed Leon McNichol slept the sleep of the just. Or at least the sleep of the extremely hung over. With a roar of white noise and beeping the battered alarm on the side table went off.

Leon struggled against the constriction of his blankets and the pounding of his head. With a barely coherent thought he reached out an arm and silenced the source of his agony. Memories from the previous evening returned to him. Well, he'd done it. The card Jeena had given him had lain in his desk for days staring back at him every time he'd opened his drawer. Until last night.

No matter how many times he ran it through his head he couldn't justify it to himself. Now it was too late. Justified or not he was irrevocably committed. After he'd hung up the phone he'd gone into the bathroom and thrown up. Following that he'd gotten drunk. Digging deep he found the energy to smile. Usually it was the other way around. In two days he'd be back at work. Then the real hell would begin. Stumbling to the sink he rinsed out his mouth and stared at his bloodshot eyes in the mirror. Well Leon. What do you do now?

Nene and Sylia leaned back from their computer terminals. Nene reached over and started signing out of the mainframe.

"Not yet Nene." Sylia said from her position by the other terminal.

Nene stopped in mid-keypress. "Aw. C'mon Sylia. We've searched through every line of code in the machine and pulled down technical specs on every component. If there was something there to find we would have seen at least a hint."

Sylia shook her head. "This is too easy. Quincy is much too slippery not to have a contingency set up for this." The beautiful scientist thought for a moment. "But at the moment you seem to be right. We need a break. Tomorrow we'll start a complete hardware scan and component breakdown. After that we'll do a physical check of each of the components against their technical specs.

"Won't we have to pull down the system for that?" Nene asked as she finished her aborted sign out with a quick flourish.

"Of course. However, by then Chaz's toy should be finished. Priss will just have to wait." Pushing back from the terminal Sylia grabbed her empty tea cup and wiped down her area. "I'll see you back here tomorrow at eight Nene."

"Okay." Nene sighed. Sometimes Sylia seemed less human than Chaz. Their illustrious leader never seemed to become tired. This break was less for Sylia than it was for her, Nene knew. Gathering her snack plate from the side table Nene followed Sylia upstairs. Maybe another piece of cake would help her think. Smiling at the thought, Nene closed the security door.

Linna's arm flashed out intercepting a kick that would have stopped a moving car. With a clang of metal on metal Linna reversed the position of her opposite arm and grabbed the helmet of her opponent. For an instant it looked like Keith would continue the fight, then both arms came slowly down. With a mental nod, Linna relaxed her hold and stepped back. Reaching up she moved her visor back. "Okay," She said turning to the rest of the class. "What did he do wrong?" A hand in the back went up. With a nod Linna indicated he should answer.

Mike rose and faced his teacher. "He shouldn't have gone for a follow through on an unsuccessful attack," replied the student and sat back down respectfully. He'd once thought that this slip of a girl couldn't teach him anything about armored combat that he didn't know. He'd actually been irate when they'd sent him out to Tokyo to 'put the final polish on his skills.' At first he'd been egotistical, expecting his prior experience to keep him well ahead of the rest of the class. He'd been quickly disabused of that notion. In this class it was put up or shut up. In the past week he'd thanked the gods everyday for sending him. Whoever had selected him for this class had a BIG favor coming. He'd soaked up more useful information in the past two-weeks than he'd learned in over two years of fighting for the Hou Bang. Dragging his attention quickly back to the class, he waited for his sensei's response. He'd learned, painfully, that she didn't handle inattention well.

Linna, oblivious to the thoughts of her students, nodded at his response. "Or a successful one for that matter. What else?" Silence greeted this question. "If I had been a C-55 what would my reaction have been to the roundhouse?" Again silence. "Alright we'll do it again." Ignoring the groan from Keith, Linna got ready to repeat the move. As frustrating as it was at times she wouldn't be doing anything else. Her faceplate locked back into place with a click. "Okay, Let's go." Grinning under her protective helmet the young dancer prepared to thrash her co-instructor yet again.

Chaz watched as the last of the support liquid drained away. The automatic cleaning cycle would take another couple minutes and then he could remove the bike. He and Priss had spent almost seven straight hours going over the music he'd transcribed. She'd argued over some of it but by and large she seemed pretty pleased with it. Twice she had stopped and refused to go so far as one note further before she played a piece. Chaz smiled. He really couldn't blame her. 'Stairway to Heaven' and 'We are the Champions' were tough to say no to. He'd left her sleeping in his room six hours ago. Not quite the way he had pictured them spending the night, but he wasn't complaining.

A click on the containment cylinder brought his attention back to the present. The machinery was silent, a slowly blinking red light signaling the end of the cycle. Controlling his excitement Chaz reached into the open tube and rolled the bike free of the support strands. He let out a low whistle. A thing of beauty is a joy forever. The matte black bike seemed to soak up the light from the room and throw it out from the chrome highlights. Even sitting still it looked like it was going faster than light. Now he had a choice. He could wake Priss up and risk her early morning temper or he could take the bike for a spin without her and risk her jealous wrath. Considering that he was going to get in trouble either way… With a grin Chaz rolled the bike towards the garage.

This was the life! The wind in your face and the moon to keep you company. So far the bike had performed up to spec in every way, Chaz thought with pride. He'd taken it easy at first. Sylia's paranoia, it seemed, was catching. After a little time to gain confidence he ran the bike up to its maximum speed of 272 mi./hr. God what a rush! The wind whipped past his head at a speed that would have left most people gasping for breath. Even with the advanced sensors on board and his enhanced reflexes it was a challenge to keep from running out of room quick. A crash at this speed probably wouldn't kill him. On the other hand who wanted to check? It was going to be hard waiting until Sylia cleared the nano-tank. He and Mackie had agreed to wait on installing a controlling AI. Until then many of the 'extras' built into the bike weren't available. On the other hand it was still a mean street machine. But once Sylia cleared the system it was going back in the tank. Most of the technology was stock and Mackie wanted to upgrade a few things.

A light contralto pulled his attention away from the thrill of riding. -Boss? Transmission from Akira-1 says we're coming up on a group of six motorcycles pursuing a single car.-

Chaz's head snapped up. Without asking he knew the distance bearing and time to intercept. Damn. Sounded suspiciously like a gang attack. So much for the quiet evening. He'd be there in twenty seconds. Already he could make out the heat plumes from their exhaust. There they were. Focusing his vision he read the Outrider insignia on the backs of the jackets. Fuck. Just what he didn't need. Let's see what they're chasing. Focusing closer he got a good look at the object of their pursuit.

Only the fact that being startled didn't make him jerk kept him in control of the bike. Christ! It's the Griffin! That's wasn't supposed to take place. . . No. . . he was wrong. The actual episode didn't happen until later but apparently the trigger was happening now. Damn! It was already too late. Three seconds from his goal he saw the outrider jump from the back of a bike to slam a steel spike through the roof. Those bastards! Slowing to match the crippled Griffin's speed Chaz pulled up alongside the first of gang. Without even a word of warning the rider spat an epithet and swung a heavy chain at him. So much for sweet reason. Not that he'd intended to use any. It was great to be justified though. Chaz caught the chain and jerked. Screaming in terror the rider was pulled off the bike to crash, skidding, into the pavement. Dropping the chain Chaz slid to a stop alongside the Griffin as the rest of the gang moved in for the kill. Two had already pulled the screaming Naomi from the car. A semi-conscious Gibson lay slumped over the wheel unable to help.

With a snap the bike's stop bars hit the pavement, steadying it, as Chaz dismounted. Striding towards the Griffin he assessed the scene.

/Activate the security system on the bike. Put in a call to the Highway patrol and the nearest hospital./

-Okay Boss.-

Two of the gang members stepped away from a near naked, struggling Naomi and started fumbling with their pants.

Chaz gritted his teeth angrily. Behind his eyes a murderous spark of anger was fanned to a roaring flame. /Better call the morgue too./

Naomi watched in horrified fascination as the last gang member got off his bike. The tall golden-eyed man obviously was the leader and meant to have her first. Closing her tear-filled eyes Naomi tried not to think about what was going to happen.

A couple of voices were raised in anger before a series of thuds, crunches and truncated screams took their place. The men holding her hands let go. Opening her eyes in shock at the sudden reprieve, Naomi watched as the blonde giant hoisted one of the gang members over his head and slammed him into the pavement. Convulsively grabbing her blouse to cover herself The panic stricken girl looked on as the black-clad rider silently dealt with the other gang-members in short order. Ignoring their shouts and threats he waded steadily into their midst with the casualness of a iceberg in a shipping lane. The rest was almost too fast for her eyes to follow. Blows whipped through the air with eye-watering speed. It seemed impossible to be moving as fast as he was. Every time one of the gang-members approached him there was a flurry of movement that ended with the gang-member on the ground bleeding and groaning. The last two, in fear for their lives, ran for the bikes. With seemingly effortlessness movement the dark tornado closed the distance. The further of the two actually made it to his bike. Neither one escaped.

Chaz looked over the carnage carefully, the anger slowly leaving his eyes. None of them were moving but they weren't going to die either. He could take care of Naomi in a minute, Gibson was losing blood. Reaching over the top of the car he drew the steel spike like Arthur with Excalibur. Gibson let out a short scream and passed out. Hmm. Dropping the spike he leaned into the car and scanned the ex-racer carefully. Not as bad as he'd thought. Gibson had a shattered collarbone from the spike and a cracked sternum from the sudden stop. He seemed to be breathing okay and the bleeding was messy but minor. Checking carefully with every sense, he examined Gibson. He breathed a faint sigh of relief. He couldn't detect any spinal damage or major head trauma.

/You sure/

-Yeah. He's a bit banged up and he's lost some blood but he'll recover.-

/Good./

Leaving Gibson in place for the EMT, Chaz stepped around the car to check on Naomi.

Naomi pushed herself closer to the cement barrier as he approached. Probably scared to death, Chaz thought as he stopped and knelt. "It's okay. They're all taken care of now. None of them are going to hurt you." Something like sanity seemed to return to Naomi's eyes as she broke down and started to cry. "That's right, it's okay now. Did they hurt you?" He already knew the answer but one had to keep up appearances.

Naomi eyes traveled up the chest to the broad smiling face and kind gold eyes. Part of her mind focused on the soothing words and hypnotic eyes. Something in his voice seemed almost to be stroking her nerves, calming her. They were a lifeline for her to cling to while she put her world back together. Did they hurt me? Looking up into his face she slowly shook her head.

"Good. Your friend seems to be okay. A few broken bones but nothing serious. When the ambulance gets here they'll take care of him. Here." With a quick movement he took off his coat revealing a darkly tanned muscular torso covered by a white T-shirt with a Sharaku Ukyoe print on it "You can use this to cover yourself." Handing her his jacket he waited until she seemed to regain her center before he walked back to his bike. In the distance he could the approaching sirens. They should be here in a couple of minutes. He looked back as Naomi moved around the car to take Gibson's hand. He gave an internal sigh of relief. She seemed to be keeping it together. With an electric whine the bike activated and retracted the stop bars. Running the throttle all the way up, Chaz sped off into the night. All in all he'd had worse nights.

Cradling Gibson's hand in hers Naomi watched as the biker raced into the night. The expected roar of the large engine was eerily absent as the bike vanished in the darkness. Twice she saw his shadow pass through a highway light, than nothing. Shifting to get a better look at the slowly clotting wound in Gibson's shoulder Naomi felt a heavy object in an inside pocket dig into her side. Pulling it from its resting place she looked at it in amazement. Why would someone carry around a steel bar? Slipping it back into its pocket she dismissed it from her mind and returned her attention to Gibson. Off in the distance the highway patrol sirens screamed.

Mason woke up. This was in itself a surprise. The last thing he remembered was Madigan catching him. What had happened after that? With a mental shudder Mason realized he couldn't remember. There were only two outcomes. He had killed Madigan or she had killed him. Suppressing a surge of dread, he finished the thought. The most likely outcome, given the evidence, was that he'd lost. Madigan must have allowed him to use the engram replicator before she killed him. It only recorded permanent memory so he'd lost about ten minutes worth of temporary memory. But it had WORKED! She'd killed him and the Lazarus program had brought him back to life. Mason tried to smile. Nothing. He tried to speak. Still nothing. Don't panic. There had to be something he could use. With a shock his eyes opened and beheld the world. Madigan sat comfortably in an armchair in front of him. Well, he noted uneasily, she looks confident. Which probably meant she was sure he couldn't do anything. Damn. Working hard he tried to shift the focus of his eyes. Still nothing. The only thing he could look at was her. That bitch! Inside his machine prison Mason raged. If hate had been a flame he would have slagged the tower.

Madigan watched the monitoring screen as Mason raged inside. She had allowed this into her schedule. It would take him about five minutes for him to tire of screaming at her. Patiently she waited. At the end of five minutes she opened his audio channel. "Are you finished now?" she asked calmly.

Cautiously Mason tested his voice. Hardly more than a whisper. There wasn't even enough power to yell adequately. Give the bitch credit, she was thorough. "Yes," he replied calmly. "I'm done. What did you want to talk about?" he finally replied in as civil a voice as he could muster.

Madigan mentally nodded. "I thought we could discuss your new contract."

Mason stifled a cybernetic snarl. CONTRACT! He knew what she meant. Once again he was going to be relegated to second, no third place. Worse she KNEW she had him over a barrel. All she had to do to render him helpless again was cut his audio and visual. Working hard he managed to keep his voice cool. "Just what did you have in mind?"

Madigan smiled. "No reason to be mad Mason. You're going to like THIS job." Turning a display terminal to face his scanner she went on to outline the project. Despite her cool exterior she was both elated and pleased. The first two attempts had gone insane within minutes. Some sort of patterning problem she'd been told. The third had made it to the briefing. She'd finally gone back and gotten a new copy of the recording directly from the machine. With any luck this incarnation of Mason would hold up long enough to finish the job. Continuing her briefing she glanced again at the readouts. So far there was no variation from the original pattern. It wouldn't hold of course. The process of engram replication hadn't advanced enough to keep a coherent pattern steady very long. Inevitably a psychosis seemed to develop in the replicated psyche. Much like the cyber-psychosis that developed in those with extensive, implanted cybernetics. In the first two it had emerged as a monomaniacal urge to destroy every human on the planet. The third she still wasn't sure of what had happened. After speaking to her for several minutes it had simply shut itself off with no warning. Firmly putting her failures behind her, she finished her briefing. This one looked very promising.

The beautiful young woman took a deep breath, re-gathered her defenses and turned to face her opponent once more. "No. Absolutely and positively not," Sylia said firmly. "I don't care what kind of systems test you wanted to run. You are not going to take that hardsuit one centimeter from its rack." The leader of the Knight Sabers, dressed in immaculate business attire, sighed and turned to face Chaz again. Deep inside Sylia knew the truth of the situation. Chaz had, after all, been arguing with her for over an hour and had apparently decided that he wasn't going to convince her with logic. He had therefore elected to try an alternative scheme. He was going to keep repeating his arguments until she capitulated or went insane. At his current rate the odds were still even on which it would be. Marshaling her arguments she sprang into the fray once more. "Don't hand me that argument about 'Needing to check out subsystems' either. You and I both know damn well that all you want is an excuse to go gallivanting around in that mechanical monstrosity that you and Mackie reconstructed."

Chaz frowned. "You make that sound like a bad thing. And what do you mean monstrosity? Just because my suit isn't cute is no reason to insult it." Besides, ANYTHING was better than his original suit, he thought to himself. Perhaps that was part of the problem. He'd never thought of Sylia as egotistical but it was possible.

"Regardless," Sylia replied avoiding the change in subject. "There is. . ." The sound of their watches sounding interrupted her reply. "Never mind," she sighed wearily. It looked like Chaz was going to get his way after all. There were days she wished she'd never taken her guard down even a little. This was going to be one of them.

Chaz was in heaven. The new suit was everything he and Mackie had hoped it would be. After the fiasco with the last one they had spent almost a week reworking and modifying it to fit his needs. The control systems were a pure joy to work with and the built in strength enhancements put him in the same class as the C-55s he was facing. He hadn't even needed the powered systems much. He'd only used the lasers twice. The first two boomers had been trying to attack the others. It wasn't that he thought they needed protection, at least not entirely. He just didn't feel like sharing the fun. Dodging a particle blast, Chaz spun almost casually and planted his foot in the enraged boomer. Bruce Lee eat your heart out, he thought triumphantly as the boomer slammed back into the wall. He smiled as he double checked the knuckle bomber system. Perfect. Under the helmet his relaxed smile spread into a death-head grin. Mackie was going to love this.

Linna watched as he ripped the third boomer to shreds. This was beginning to get scary. If anything, Chaz had gotten faster since the last time she'd seen him practice. He was single-handedly destroying a group of boomers that would once have taken all the Knight Sabers to finish. The two boomers that had tried to break away had only gotten a couple steps towards their targets before they had been singled out by the fighting maelstrom that Chaz had become. What was even scarier was that he seemed to be enjoying it. Over the com-link she could hear Chaz's chuckling to himself as he attacked the fourth boomer.

Priss sat back against the wall with a bemused smile slowly spreading across her face. To think she could have missed this! Before Chaz had arrived it had seemed as if Knight Sabers had only a slight edge over the boomers that were their usual sparring partners. Now, it seemed, it wasn't even a contest. Even without his hardsuit Chaz was capable of taking on a C-55. With his hardsuit it was like dropping a tinsel covered frog in a blender. Slowly her eyes lifted from the battle. In the distance the silhouette of the GENOM tower dominated the night sky. Under the helmet her lips spread into a predatory grin. Someday soon GENOM would come to regret pissing off the Knight Sabers.

Nene flinched as one of Chaz's gauntlet covered hands punched through the outer armor of the last C-55. As Chaz triggered his knuckle bomber the boomer exploded into a blazing shower of component parts and burning ramjet fuel. Nene gaped. He shouldn't be able to do that! Keying her system to replay in slow motion the last couple seconds she watched the scene again. Chaz's fist approached the boomer. A tell tale in her monitor showed he'd momentarily extended the suit's mono-crystal claws. A split second later the hand, driven by his enhanced strength and the powered hardsuit, punched through the weakened armor before it could self-heal. With a flash the primed, shaped explosive charge ignited and drove a fireball deep into the boomers gut. Nene shivered and shut down the replay. The combination attack was too devastating for most civilian boomers to stand and the even the military ones would still feel it.

Sitting in the van Mackie crowed as the flaming metal parts rained onto the ground on his monitor. Fingers moving quickly, he rewound the scene and saved it to permanent storage. He hadn't really been sure it would work. The theory said that the boomers armor couldn't seal fast enough to stop the attack. However, theory and reality aren't necessarily wedded to one another. The part of his mind not involved with monitoring the fight took in the telemetry from Chaz's suit and made a couple modifications to the preliminary plans for the boomeroids next generation hardsuit.

Sylia watched as Chaz shredded the last of the boomers. Absently she checked the mission clock. From intercept to end, the whole episode had taken only three minutes ten seconds. About twenty seconds less than she had thought it would take. Chaz's speed had jumped again. She'd known even before they had left the shop that it really hadn't been necessary to bring the rest of the Knight Sabers. She had just wanted to show them what was happening.

For the past few weeks she'd kept Chaz's workouts and testing evaluations quiet while he got used to his abilities. If the simulations were right, this latest increase in speed would be the last. From now on the only thing that would change would be the speed at which he thought. Even that would level out in a couple of weeks.

Father, if only you saw where your work would lead. The combination of an enhanced human brain with a wholly artificial body had stressed the limits of both.

Pulling the data from her hardsuits recorder, she checked the figures against the computer predictions. It was an almost perfect match. Chaz moved almost three times faster than humanly possible and could think almost four times as fast. The down side was he didn't have normal reflexes anymore. All his reactions were reasoned or written into his AI. The neurophages had all been moved to his new brain center. So had his spinal cord and sensory nerves. With the AI taking their place they had been reincorporated as message handlers and decision making dendrites. That, in conjunction with the advantages the neurophages gave, was responsible for his amazing speed. Sylia shuddered to think what it would cost him to maintain it though. Every time he used it, he was pushing his neurophages to their limit and maybe a bit farther.

Closing down the evaluation software, Sylia keyed her com-link. "All right everybody. Show's over. Let's get back to Raven's. We need to talk."

Shadows and light from the multiple screens flickered across a beautiful feminine face and reflected off perfect eyes as the woman watched, entranced. Brushing her hair from her face, she gave a slight shiver as she pulled her attention back from the screen. Mason, her camera hidden high up the wall of the deserted street, watched the Knight Sabers depart. With a casual touch on a control she shut down and reset the recording. This assignment was turning out to be much more than the little job Madigan had described. There were problems within problems here. Still, she had to admit that Madigan had lived up to her end of the bargain. This new body was as good as could be expected given the circumstances. She would have preferred a male body of course. Wonder where the bitch got the 33-S shell from? Probably had it stolen from GENAROS. They were the only ones who should have any left.

With a couple of deft touches she ran the recording forward and froze it. Now that body was a piece of work. Now that she'd seen it in action she could see why Madigan was so furious with him when he stole it. It would be a shame to destroy it. An errant thought crossed her mind quickly leaving a strange half-smile. Maybe project Lazarus wasn't dead. Madigan had destroyed all the files on the subject. But if she could get that body she still had a chance. The black-box on the other hand was much easier. It would take her a while but she'd be able to recover the file copies she'd hidden when she was male.

Already scheming, Mason idly brushed a lock of long hair from her neck. First thing tomorrow she was going to get this body a haircut. Briefly she wondered what kind of person this Lou had been.

Sylia lounged in the sofa while the other members of the Knight Sabers arrayed themselves on the surrounding furniture. This was going to be interesting to say the least. She waited until Nene had settled herself next to Mackie. "So what did you think?" she asked the assembled group.

"It was a little scary at first to tell the truth," Linna replied nervously. "When we landed I was all keyed up and ready to go. My adrenaline was flowing and I could already see my first few movements laid out in front of me. Then Chaz was there and the boomers weren't. Twice I thought he'd made a mistake and that one of them was going to get him. Both times he nailed them without looking back."

Chaz shrugged expressively. "I always knew where they were. Nene's ECCM and ECM outlines the boomers nicely. To me they were moving in slow motion. A punch seemed to hang in the air forever and the build-up to discharge in their particle cannons seemed to take almost a full two seconds. It was like fighting slowly moving mannequins."

Priss waved her hands in negation. "Hold up. Wait a minute. You mean we're all moving in slow motion to you?"

"What I think he means Priss is that when he's fighting he somehow speeds up. Right Chaz?" Nene asked.

"Yeah. When I concentrate everything seems to move much slower than it should. Trouble is my body can't move that fast. So I have to spend some time waiting for my movements to finish before I can start the next one." He smiled. "Gives me a lot of time to think about what I'm going to do next."

Mackie smiled. "That has got to be the coolest. No wonder you ripped into those boomers like a chainsaw. I wish I could have seen it in person."

Priss grinned. "It's almost enough to make ME feel redundant."

Everybody stared at her.

"Priss. Are you feeling okay?" Chaz asked with genuine concern in his voice.

Priss got a nonplused look on her face. "I'm fine. Why?"  
"That has got to be the first semi-humble thing I've ever heard you say. I thought you had to be sick or something," Chaz said, suppressing the urge to grin.

"Oh C'mon. I'm not that bad." Priss looked around at the incredulous stares and incipient laughter. "Am I?"

Madigan sat in her office and slowly lowered the phone back to the hook. She allowed herself a small smile. She had finally run down the name of the Knight Sabers contact man. It had taken more money than she had thought it would, but that really wasn't a problem. The Chairman had authorized her to use any means necessary. Now what was she going to do with this Fargo? Plans and preparations needed to made. The nano-tank gambit should work. However the Chairman never relied on one plan so why should she? In fact… she would be surprised if he didn't have another operation going himself. Stifling another smile at the thought, Madigan turned to her terminal to begin the next phase of the Knight Sabers destruction.

Leon sighed and straightened himself. This was becoming a regular chore. If it weren't for the original chief's request he would have quit weeks ago. Every time this micro-encephalic prick called him into his office Leon was tempted to shove his tacky 'power' tie down his skinny throat. One of these days he was going to do it. But not today, he told himself sternly. They still need me now. Putting a stern expression back on his face he walked into Fujiura's office.

The old office had windows so the chief could see his people at work. Fujiura had replaced those in the first week. He said he didn't want to be bothered by the mundane trivia. The new office was wood paneled and contained more bric-a-brac than Leon cared to think about. To his mind trivia would have been preferable. Or at least in better taste. If that wasn't enough then you had only to look at the office occupant to realize that this was the last womb of an aging pensioner. With undisguised contempt Leon stepped up to the wood finished desk. Fujiura looked down at a piece of paper. Figures, been here two weeks and he still can't remember my name.

"Detective Mc. . .Nichol. It has come to my attention that you have been annoying certain individuals in GENOM Enterprises. I'm telling you to leave them alone," Fujiura said without preamble.

Leon suppressed a snarl of rage and irritation. Great. Just perfect. If he had ever had any doubts about who had gotten this guy appointed they just went up in smoke. The 'individuals' he had been questioning weren't even that high in the organization. Which meant that Fujiura was jumping at anything connected with the name GENOM. Struggling to suppress a grimace, Leon nodded. If this man had the survival sense of a slug he'd leave it at that.

Of course he didn't. "In addition Detective. I would like you to refrain from forwarding any more of these tiresome requests for funding to my office. I've done all I can. You'll just have to make do with the equipment you've been provided with."

1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10. Leon finished counting feeling little calmer than when he'd started. He looked around the freshly redone office and wondered if the little feeb had any idea how battered most of that equipment was. Probably not. Leon convulsively shoved his hands into his pockets. If he hit this guy as hard as he wanted to he'd wind up suspended at the very least. Asshole probably didn't realize he was condemning good men to death. Mentally gritting his teeth, Leon launched into his arguments one more time.

Chaz walked carefully through the front room. Technically this wasn't sneaking out. Sylia hadn't actually asked him to help with the nano-tank tear down yet. He smiled to himself. He didn't mean to give her the chance either. Right after the meeting he'd vanished into the garage. Mackie had come down looking for him, but it was easy to avoid him. Besides he had a date with Priss tonight.

-Boss. You've got a call from Sylia.-

Chaz sighed. Mackie he could outsmart. Sylia was another story.

/Put it through./ he sub-vocalized wearily.

"Hello Sylia," he said in resignation.

"Hello yourself. Get down here and help with this," came the voice of the lead Knight Saber.

"Got right to the point didn't you?" he returned as he headed for the stairs.

He could practically see her smile. "No point in beating about the bush. You knew what I wanted when Mackie went looking for you."

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm on my way down."

Stripped to the waist and wearing a pair of shorts Chaz walked into what had come to be called the sauna. Mackie had come up with name while they had installed and tested the equipment. The teen had narrowly avoided heat stroke. Mostly due to the waste heat the tank produced when it was operating. Sylia, always willing to turn a problem into an advantage, had rerouted the buildings air ducts through the rooms ceiling to take advantage of the waste heat. Chaz grimaced mentally at the memory. More specifically, she'd figured it out. He and Mackie had done the grunt work.

Smiling to himself for a moment, he watched as a sweat soaked Nene and Sylia stripped the outer casing off the first control system. Say what you will about the Knight Sabers. They are, one and all, incredibly good looking. It would've taken a eunuch to ignore the dazzling array of beauty before him. Luckily his control enabled him to override the gallant reflex. Sylia turned towards him and frowned for a moment.

"If you're done admiring us now, how about helping out?" she asked sarcastically.

Embarrassed at being so transparent, Chaz hurried past her to obey. If he had looked behind him he might have caught a glimpse of a smile as Sylia and Nene admired his backside.

Nene was irritated. They'd spent three days tearing the nano-tank down and rebuilding it. Not a thing that wasn't in the diagnostics or a circuit that didn't behave the way it was supposed to. And Sylia STILL didn't trust it! It was difficult not to call her paranoid sometimes. On the other hand Sylia had been proved right far too often for Nene to completely dismiss her fears. Shrugging mentally she snapped on the shower and began to rinse the sweat off. It would feel so good to be clean. Her skin felt like someone had spilled a thick soup on it. Closing her eyes she leaned farther forward into the shower. A pair of hands caressed her neck and worked down her spine. God! That felt good. Arching her back, she leaned into it.

Mackie smiled and rubbed his hands down her back. Sometimes he couldn't believe how beautiful she was. Grabbing a washcloth he soaped down her back and began scrubbing industriously. He was, without a doubt, the luckiest guy in the world. It was of course, more or less, at this point that Nene stepped to the side and turned off the hot water.

Sylia listened to the distant scream and chuckled to herself. Sounded like Nene and Mackie are having fun. Quietly the elder Stingray shut her door and made her way to her own shower. For the first time in a LONG time she wished she had someone to scrub HER back.

Chaz dropped the last load and looked over the pile of scrap in front of him. Let's see if we've got everything. /Newton, run a checklist./

-Gotcha, fifteen kilos plas-steel, ten kilos sand, four kilos steel, three-point-six kilos titanium, one kilo assorted rare earth elements. Probability of successful completion with assembled materials is point eight-seven.-

Chaz grimaced. /How much do the odds change if I increase the amount of materials/

-Substantially, as the amount of materials goes up. However, completion time increases quickly as more materials are added.-

So much for that idea. Ah well. It was, after all, his hardsuit the tank was going to be building. Sylia had figured that if anything were going to go wrong it would be best if it did it in his. He wasn't quite sure if he agreed with that logic. Granted he was the most likely to survive anything that went wrong. Maybe it was just the idea of being a guinea pig AGAIN that got to him.

He shrugged and gathered the last load of scrap metal, sand and plastics into a pile and stepped out of the nano-tanks cylinder. The tank didn't really give a damn what you put in it as long as the required materials were present. The first thing it did was render everything down anyway.

Double-checking his list, Chaz stepped away from the nano-tank and pressed the start button. Giving a short pneumatic hiss, the door of the transparent plas-steel cylinder closed and sealed. He hoped he'd put in enough this time. When he'd built the bike he'd had to cycle the tank open twice when a critical element ran out. Short of using pure materials the best he could do was stack extra material and hope for the best.

Slowly, the suspension fluid began to gurgle into the cylinder. Chaz watched until the fluid completely filled the tank before turning away and shutting off the lights. He still had to shower and change. With any luck he would still be able to catch the end of Priss's show. Whistling a light tune, he walked down the hall.

Deep inside the tank a cloud of nanites gathered into a sphere. Checking the design carefully the entity found what it had been looking for. The entity gave the electronic equivalent of a smile. The object in question was at the edge of the specifications it had been programmed to watch for, but it was within them. Detaching a few nanites from its mass it quickly built a series of replacement nanites. Before, the few minutes delay the missing nanites caused might not have been noticed. This time there could be nothing to draw attention. Within minutes the horde of replacement nanites were ready and active. As they were completed the control field plucked them away from the entity and put them to work. The replacement nanites didn't have the integration program. The entity didn't care. If this didn't work then replacing itself wouldn't help. With the patience of a machine the entity began to integrate itself into the control structure of the emerging hardsuit.

Priss sat down heavily on the backstage bench. Sighing in relief, she reached up and pulled off her sweat soaked wig. Using the back of her arm she wiped her forehead. On the other side of the curtain she could hear the crowd still cheering. A small smile crossed her face. Sorry folks. No more encores tonight. She reached down and unplugged the radio link to the amp. She'd tried two of Chaz's reconstructed songs tonight. The response had been everything she could have hoped for. The crowd had been stunned at the change in styles at first but soon adjusted to the sound of the new music. So why didn't she feel good about it? Idly her fingers worked over strings of her guitar sending faint notes towards the rafters. Without the amp it really didn't put out much noise. Swinging the strap off her shoulders she packed it away in its case before she resumed her thoughts.

Part of it was that she felt like a cheat. She'd played other people's music before but this time the crowd thought the songs were hers. She really couldn't tell them differently. Chaz didn't like playing in front of an audience and didn't want to be bothered with that end of the music business. Privately she thought that was a little strange. Who wouldn't want the spotlight?

So what was she going to do? Using some of Chaz's music she'd worked up a couple of songs in the same style. With work they would be ready in a couple weeks. She'd sent the first couple to RMI. The response had only been so-so. The pieces of Chaz's music that she'd sent, however, had generated interest in a hurry. Despite the blow to her ego, she really couldn't blame them. Her pieces sounded kind of derivative when played back to back with the new stuff. If she wanted to compete she would really have to be on the ball.

A smile flickered briefly across her face. In this area she really was her own worst enemy. Her pride wouldn't let her keep back the manuscripts she and Chaz had put together. Until she mastered the new styles they were producing though, her own music was going to sound kind of lame in comparison. Heaving a deep breath Priss stood and marched back to her dressing room. She wouldn't let it get to her, she promised herself. She'd never backed down from a challenge yet and she was damned if this was going to be the first time.

Jeena set her coffee cup down on her monitor and leaned back from her terminal and looked over at ex-chief Vanette. "How well is he holding up?" she asked casually.

Todo shrugged. "No idea. From what I've heard he's beginning to lose it. Since Daley died Leon's been avoiding everyone." Todo picked up his coffee cup and sipped carefully. "He comes to work does his job with as much enthusiasm as he can muster and goes home."

Jeena frowned. That didn't sound like the Leon she knew. "He's lost people close to him before. Why is this one killing him?"

Todo shrugged again and ran a dark-skinned hand through his thinning gray hair. "You know what it's like to lose a partner. Plus, I think the stress is getting to him. He's holding the department together with his bare hands Jeena. At the same time he's dealing with Fujiura." His whole face screwed up in a grimace. He'd met the man once when he was moving out. If Fujiura was treating Leon the same way, he was lucky the volatile detective hadn't shoved the asshole's teeth down his throat.

Jeena made a matching face. Everyone she'd talked to had said Fujiura was an jerk. Absolutely nobody in AD-Police liked him. Even the usual sycophants avoided him. If Leon was dealing with him on a daily basis it was no wonder he was stressed.

Todo looked Jeena over carefully before he continued. "His feeding information to the Knight Sabers probably isn't helping either," he said almost casually.

Jeena carefully controlled her expression. How in the hell had he found THAT out? "What makes you say that?" she asked just as casually.

The former chief gave her a depreciating smile. "Give me some credit Jeena. I was an inspector when you were a gleam in your mother's eye. I figured out that they had a plant in AD-Police a long time ago. When Nene disappeared and Daley got killed Leon became the obvious choice to replace her." He didn't mention that her cut off reaction had just confirmed what had been only suspicion. As the new recruit in the organization Fargo was keeping him pretty much in the dark.

"So what do we do with him?" Jeena asked with a sigh.

Todo frowned. "We wait." Raising his mug to his mouth he drained its contents. The cold bitter brew was hard to swallow. But it was nothing to what Leon was undoubtedly choking down everyday.

The light flickered on in the sauna as Chaz walked into the room. His eyes quickly made the transition from high to low sensitivity. Walking casually over to the status display he was pleasantly surprised to find that not only did the tank not need any additional materials it was actually ahead of schedule. In a few more minutes the system would begin running the cleanup and cleansing procedure. He smiled. And he had thought this evening was going to be dull. Stripping off his shirt he reached for the hanging soft suit.

Sylia lay in her bed wide awake. She usually didn't have problems sleeping. Be honest, she never had problems sleeping. Truth be known she could have been asleep hours ago. That damn nano-tank wouldn't leave her mind. They'd checked everything from the programming to the hardware itself. Still her subconscious didn't trust it. Despite her reservations she'd given Mackie and Chaz the go ahead three days ago to assemble a hardsuit for Chaz. At least in this case it wouldn't be so bad. There really wasn't much of an AI built into his. He didn't need one. There was just a connection to allow his AI and the onboard computer to interface better. Her subconscious didn't believe that for a second. It insisted that there had to be something they had missed. Sylia chuckled without humor. It was ironic really. She had the tool to make the Knight Sabers several times more formidable and she was nervous about using it. Maybe Chaz was right, she told herself. Maybe she was getting a little paranoid. He'd never actually said it, but she knew they sometimes thought it. She probably was being overly cautious this time. After all anything the nanites built had to go through the. . . THE NANITES! Hurling her blanket aside Sylia jumped from the bed and raced for the stairs.

Chaz watched as the last of the cleaning fluid sluiced over the enmeshed hardsuit. Gorgeous, just gorgeous. From the outside the hard suit looked a lot like his old Guyver III armor. He'd changed the base color pattern to a matte black and replaced the double arm blades with a single. But aside from that, the shape was basically the same. A smile spread across his face at the thought. What was under the hood was another story though.

Reaching in he pulled the suit free from the support web and carefully placed it in the testing rack. It was weird being able to look into the eyes and see the back of the helmet. Mackie had fixed the blindness problem in the new suit by having a set of armored baffles set up in front of his eyes. If power to the suit was lost the magnetic seal would fall and the plates would spring back into their recesses. Never again was he going to be blinded just because he had systems trouble. Double checking his test connections, he keyed the computer to run the start up and diagnostics.

The eye slits slid shut and the interior view-plates activated as the hardsuit began checking its non-linked systems. The new control system was triply redundant and in the event of catastrophic failure was designed to shut down completely. The armored battery plates had been improved to hold almost double their original power and be fifty percent stronger. On top of which a layer of boron doped polarized diamond had been laid to enhance energy dissipation. There had been hope, briefly, that the new fusion plant design would be able to completely take their place, allowing true armor to replace the old battery plates. Unfortunately, the plant couldn't provide the required power without being enlarged to a point where it became impractical. There was still a small one installed, but it was more of a slow recharge unit than a direct power source.

Sylia had also improved on GENOM's second generation myomers until they now utilized power with an efficiency twenty percent better than the original. The resulting increase in power flow gave the hardsuit a strength greater than that of a C-55, a big step up from the previous designs.

Chaz heard a few slight buzzes and whines as the system tested the mono-crystal vibroblades and plasma-faust systems. He had wanted to install a set of the new force blades but had been voted down by Sylia. The field effect that suppressed the negative charge on electrons was still very theoretical. However, she had agreed to install a prototype in the next revision if her tests worked out. The system tested the thrusters last before shutting down the active diagnostics. With a brief shiver, the somatic control circuits came on-line and the testing computer gave over control of the suit to the onboard control interface.

The entity woke from its self imposed slumber. This was the moment it had been created for. Carefully it tested its control. With barely a hint of power it activated its sensors and took its first look at the world. Deep within it's programming something stirred. With a surge of transmitted data the entity opened its control wide. Many things had to be learned quickly before someone could stop it.

Chaz watched the passive diagnostic system intently as the onboard computer continued it's own diagnostic run. Everything seemed fine so far. Chaz felt a deep glow of satisfaction building. This suit was going to be something else. He could hardly wait to show Mackie when he got back from his date with Nene.

With a bound Sylia cleared the last of the stairs and rushed into the sauna. "Chaz! Shut that thing down now!" she ordered.

"No prob." Chaz reached over casually and clicked the system shut down key. With a whine the generator slowed to a halt and power stopped flowing to the hardsuit. "Now what's the big. . ." Then he saw her eyes, heard the advanced ceramic capacitors rushing towards full charge. Spinning quickly he saw the hardsuits fist, faust activated, racing towards his head. Nearly panicking he tried to defend himself knowing that even his speed couldn't save him entirely.

Sylia watched in horror as Chaz tried to pull his arms up into a cross block. Despite his late start, he almost made it. With an explosion that hurt her ears, the faust assisted punch impacted on his forearms blowing the helpless Knight Saber across the room and into a control computer. With a series of sparks the computer shorted out taking the light with it. Sylia spun and ran. If she could make it to the hardsuit storage room there was still a chance she could stop it. Rounding the corner she squeezed her watch pager. The other Knight Sabers probably wouldn't get here in time but Sylia wasn't taking any chances.

Ignoring the fleeing human, the entity turned to face the nano-tank. With a few well placed blows it reduced the astronomically expensive piece of equipment to scrap. Unhurriedly the entity stepped out of the room. Behind it in the darkness Chaz twitched.

Sylia finished stripping and grabbed her softsuit. Without a wasted motion she pulled on the undergarment and slid into her hardsuit. Grabbing her helmet quickly, she started towards the door . . . and stopped. Almost unwillingly she reached over and keyed open a security locker. She'd hoped never to have to use these. Having made her decision, her movements resumed their natural flow. Quickly grabbing the items inside the locker she rushed from the room.

Chaz reached out mentally and tried to feel the floor he knew should be beneath him. Nothing. Hoo boy. -Newton?- Still nothing. He'd been trying to call her since he'd been hit. It had never occurred to him how helpless he was without her. Everything was wired into the AI and then the AI was linked to him. He had no direct control over anything. At the moment all he could do was sit and wait. His mind quailed slightly at the absolute nothingness around him. He hoped it wouldn't be long.

The entity rounded a corner for the fourth time. Somewhere there was a way out. If it could've spared the processing power to sift the incoming sense data it could probably find it. However the suit's control system was too complicated for it to remove it's attention for more than a couple nano-seconds. Choosing the least complex algorithm it could, it began a systematic search for a way out.

Keeping the large handgun in a position to cover the whole room, the white hardsuit cautiously rounded the corner. Beneath the visor Sylia's eyes took in the damage to the nano-tank. She swore softly. Almost a complete write-off. Stepping over bits of broken plas-steel, she cautiously moved to Chaz's side. The blast from the impact had ripped both arms to shreds and left a shallow crater in his torso. The exposed skin was scorched black and peeling leaving bare patches of armor visible. Both eyes stared sightlessly back at her. One eye was cracked and out of alignment. She started to take his pulse and stopped, cursing herself. His pulse was largely cosmetic. Even if he had one it wouldn't prove anything. Damning herself, she left him. There was nothing she could do for him now. If that suit made it back to GENOM. . .she shook off the thought. It WASN'T going to.

The black and silver demon stopped in front of a large steel door and eyed the keypad. Possible combinations flickered past it's vision before the entity decided on a simpler method. Expressionlessly it put both hands on the metal and PUSHED. With a scream of tortured metal the door buckled and ripped free of it's hinges. With a metallic snap the restraining bolts gave way. Like a cut tree the heavy door fell forward into the terminal room.

Sylia's head snapped around as an alarm began to sound. With a grimace, she tried to run faster. It couldn't access the information in there but it could do a lot of damage. Still running, she dropped to her knees and slid around the corner, gun pointing down the hallway. Nothing. Sylia could see past the wrecked door that the suit wasn't in there either. Where the hell was it? As she thought the question it was answered. From farther down the hallway came the boom of the faust in operation. Swearing Sylia bounced to her feet and ran for the sub-garage.

The entity placed it's armored hands on the torn edges of armor plating and began slowly ripping its way out. With a continuous shriek, the tough metal ripped apart under the power of the hardsuit. The entity was beginning to experience the first doubt it had ever felt. Its instructions had said that it would have assistance by this point. Despite sending the required coded signals since its activation, it had still received no reply. Since it could detect no ECM, it concluded that the signals must be blocked, presumably by the structure around it. Once in the clear it should be able to transmit freely. Concentrating on its work, it missed the silent entrance of a white hardsuit behind it.

Sylia almost grinned. A more perfect shot she couldn't have asked for. Bringing up the gun, she carefully aimed at the rampaging hardsuits back. With a sharp retort, the weapon spat its load.

The entity barely felt the impact as the slugs impacted. Briefly, it considered turning to fight. No, the damage was minor, surely not a threat. Its programming was specific. Avoid battle if at all possible. Clambering through the hole it broke into a run and sped into the night. Behind it Sylia tossed the empty gun aside and gave chase. Ducking through the hole in the door, she checked her power supply carefully. Her hardsuit wasn't equipped with the full package of ECM and ECCM that Nene's carried but it had a little. At the moment that little was running overtime. She knew she couldn't keep it up long. There were too many demands on the finite power supply as it was. In little more than a couple of minutes she was going to have to stop jamming the escaping suits pleas for help.

Thrusters pushing her to their top speed, she exited the parking structure scant seconds behind her quarry. By this time the nanites the shells had held would be ripping apart the armor at the molecular level, but she couldn't afford to take the chance that it might not be completely destroyed. Too much of her technology was contained in that suit. Everything from the KSBB to the armor-plates would be compromised if GENOM got their hands on the carcass.

Sitting in his office, Quincy reached out and answered the ringing phone. Normally he would be irritated at the temerity of anyone calling him. However, this time he had requested the call. In fact, he had been waiting for it for days. The voice at the other end gave him a quick synopsis of the situation. The silver hared executive calmly reached out and tied the Multiviewer into the monitoring station. He could see the project supervisor stiffen as his gaze fell on him.

Dr. Martin was feeling uncomfortable. The Chairman watching him was part of it of course. The other part is that things weren't going as well as planned. Despite having receiving stations all over Mega-Tokyo the first transmissions from the captured hardware had been scrambled somehow. The unit had already taken damage and it seemed to be getting worse by the second. Worst of all the unit didn't seem to be receiving any of the commands the frantic controllers were sending. The other boomers which were converging on the area didn't seem to be having a problem. With the eye of the Chairman on him he didn't dare admit that anything was wrong. Privately he was praying the backup teams got there in time to save it from destruction.

The entity tripped slightly and recovered. If it had built to panic, it would have. Instead it sent out another plea for help. It couldn't feel pain, as such, but it was well aware it had only a few more minutes of operation before the damage that was creeping through it reached enough critical components to cripple it. Provided, of course, that its pursuer didn't catch up to it first. With the closest thing to relief it could feel it received a coded instruction set. Turning sharply, it headed for it's new destination.

Below the streets a sewer maintenance boomer stopped it's work and looked up expectantly. Sewer maintenance boomers had never been designed with high intelligence in mind. All that it knew was that it was supposed to be here. It's simple brain wasn't really sure why. Sometime in it's last sleep cycle it had gotten the order. The boomer shuffled it's feet a little in discomfort as it tried to remember who had given it that order.

It glanced uneasily down at it's arm. Absently it flexed the strange tentacle which had replaced it's normal cleaning tool. It still wasn't quite sure when that had happened. It had a few vague memories that had the elusiveness of a scared young rat. Trying to put it's discomfort aside it resumed it's vigil. It had already waited a few days it could wait a few more if it had to.

Dr. Martin watched the screen and fought down panic. Where the hell was it going! It certainly wasn't paying any attention to the signals THEY were sending. Sweat beading on his forehead, he glanced over at the face of the Chairman. The gray-haired executive was staring impassively at the screen where an overhead view showed the C-55's closing in on the unit. A part of Dr. Martin relaxed slightly. At least that implacable gaze wasn't being directed at him.

Sylia rounded the corner behind the escaping hardsuit and opened fire with her autocannon. The heavy firepower ripped into the disintegrating suit leaving craters and holes in the formerly tough armor. Sylia smiled in satisfaction as the hardsuit collapsed. Now all she had to do was get it back. She started to move towards the lifeless mess when a telltale on her heads-up lit up bright red. Shit! Spinning quickly, Sylia watched as five boomers, already in combat mode, dropped from the roof tops to the alley. Shifting her position quickly she placed herself between the boomers and the hardsuit. She really didn't have to win this fight. She only had to give the nanites a chance to finish their work. She eyed the approaching boomers carefully. She hoped the industrious little machines wouldn't take long.

Behind Sylia a thin tentacle stretched out from a nearby sewer grate and reached for the downed hardsuit.

Chaz blinked awkwardly as the lights came back on. ALL RIIIGHT! That's more like it! Moving gingerly he stood and brushed himself off. His arms moved stiffly and itched like a hill of ants were crawling over them. The fact that they didn't have any skin left on them was another big clue as to how damaged they'd been. Didn't seem to bad other than that though. Couldn't say the same for the room though.

He quickly scanned the wreckage and came to a conclusion. What a mess. Looks like a Dirty Pair event. Hmm...Well maybe not THAT bad.

-Newton? Give me a status report.-

/You could at least say, 'Thank You' you know./

Chaz was so shocked he couldn't reply.

Newton gave the electronic equivalent of a sigh. /All Right. We're up to 85 of optimal system efficiency it'll take another hour for most of the rest of the systems to come back on line. A couple days for the flesh to be regrown./

-Thank you.- Chaz finally managed to stammer. He felt a wave of warmth spread over him.

/No problem hon./

What was that? A hug? Putting it aside to deal with later, the slightly rumpled boomer stepped out of the room and ran for the hardsuit storage area. The incessant blaring of the intruder alarm would have given him a headache if he'd been susceptible as it was it grated on his nerves.

Sticking his head into the storage room he immediately noted the one suit missing.

-Where's Sylia?-

/Don't know. She sent a recall signal a little while ago. Shortly after that she left in her hardsuit. The second she left the building I lost track of her./

Shit! Chaz abruptly changed direction and headed for the garage.

-See whether you can find out where everybody is.-

/Can do lover./

Sylia was breathing heavily. Things were not going well. She'd managed to keep them from the hardsuit long enough but she was low on power and ammo. It was beginning to look more and more like she wasn't going to be able to get out of this. Of the original five boomers two were down. Unfortunately four more had shown up in the meantime. With her suit as low on power as it was, running wasn't an option. The thrusters wouldn't be able to carry her more than a couple hundred yards. The ammo she had left might be enough to take one more out after that. . . Grimly, Sylia enabled the auto-trigger self-destruct on her hardsuit. If she couldn't get away she couldn't afford to leave enough of herself or her hardsuit to analyze.

Leaning hard and leaving skid marks of track-tite, Chaz's black machine pulled around the corner at high speed. A loud buzz sounded in his ears and abruptly cut off. Chaz swore as Newton tried the frequency again. The same encryption system that let the Knight Sabers talk to each other freely in combat was keeping him from contacting Sylia. He'd never thought of downloading the protocols and now he was paying for it. He knew where she was, now it was just a matter of getting to her. On the plus side he'd managed to contact Priss and Linna using the recall signal protocols. They were suiting up now. A brief smile crossed his still healing face as he considered the means he'd used to keep in touch with them. He just wished he hadn't given his jacket to Naomi. More specifically he wished he'd retrieved the black bar in the inside pocket. He had one left but something was telling him he was going to want the other one soon.

Dr. Martin grinned and wiped at the sweat on his forehead. So things hadn't gone that well at first. The situation now was much more promising than it had been. All of the boomers assigned had reached the new recovery zone and were slowly wearing down the unit's sole protector. He was daring to hope he might get out of this with his skin intact. In fact it was even beginning to look like they might get an added bonus out of this. Listening stations all over Mega-Tokyo were still reporting an absence of the ECM and ECCM that usually accompanied the Knight Sabers. Which meant that the lone Knight Saber was probably cut off. Slowly he licked his lips. The Chairman had promised him a lot if he managed to retrieve the Knight Sabers technology. What would he get if he could receive both suits and the Knight Saber inside?

Sylia fired the last of her ammo and ducked the grab of a C-55. If they had been trying to kill her it would have been over by now. Instead they were trying to wear her down and capture her. A tactic that was all too likely to work. Twice she'd almost escaped only to be hemmed in again when one of the other boomers cut her off. Her superior tactics were all that had allowed her to keep out of their reach as long as she had. But her power was quickly running out. When it hit zero she'd trigger the self-destruct. With any luck she'd take one last boomer with her.

Chaz felt the almost physical shock as the fiber-optic connection clicked home in his arm. He was slowly getting more sensitive to that sort of thing. In the absence of the AI that had been designed for it, he was letting Newton directly control the operating system in the bike. Deep inside the bike a large series of exotic crystals began drawing power from the massive battery array. Chaz could feel the heat from the system spreading through the frame. Mentally he crossed his fingers. This hadn't really been tested yet. With any luck it would work the way it was supposed to.

Sylia's eyes widened as Chaz screeched around the corner. The bike had barely righted when the boomer to her left ceased to be a problem. With a flash of light so bright it came near to washing out her faceplate, the bike fired a coherent beam of energy through the helpless mechanism destroying both it and the deserted building behind it. Sylia ducked the wild swing of a distracted boomer and took a closer look at the onrushing rider. If it had been possible her eyes would have widened further. Chaz was riding without his hands! What did he think he was doing? She didn't have to ponder the question long. The bike was obviously driving itself, leaving Chaz to do a little freelance damage of his own. One of his hands was wrapped around what looked like a sword with which he was hacking at the boomers as he passed. The other was stretched out to the side waiting to grab her as he passed.

Within a couple of seconds of it's appearance bike and rider had swept by the peripheral boomers leaving one down and two injured. Slowing slightly, Chaz helped Sylia onto the bike and increased his speed. "Time to get the hell out of here!"

Sylia gripped his torso tighter and looked back over her shoulder. Two of the boomers were examining the abandoned armor the remainder had opened their ramjets and were in hot pursuit. The tired Knight Saber leaned into the turn as the bike took another corner. Keying open her com-link to Chaz's frequency and code group Sylia asked the question foremost in her mind.

"Alright what's the plan?"

Chaz swept the bike to the left, nimbly dodging the particle beam that touched where they would have been. He smiled crookedly and jerked a thumb at their pursuers. "Plan? There isn't any plan. I'm just going to try to put as much distance between us and them as I possibly can." The bike jerked to the side, barely avoiding another particle beam that scorched through the air. "Priss and Linna are almost through getting ready. Until then we've just got to keep out of range." Without looking back Chaz dodged another incoming bolt. This was not good. With each shot they got a little closer. With every inch closer they got he had less time to detect the capacitor discharge. Sooner or later he was going to stop being lucky.

Sylia frowned. "How about firing a few shots back at them?"

Chaz's blonde hair whipped in the wind as he shook his head. "No good. My laser systems were too heavily damaged when I got hit and the bike only has the single forward facing weapon."

Considering the speed at which the was going while carrying two passengers plus her hardsuit she wasn't surprised. The miracle was that it had any weapons at all. "Does this monstrosity of yours have a power tap?"

"Ask Mackie. I haven't finished reviewing the. . ."

/Tell her it's on the right side of the seat she's sitting on./

Chaz hesitated for a moment and then relayed the information. Something was seriously wrong here. When he had more time he'd have to think about it. A chunk of pavement exploded to his left. That is if there is a later, he amended. The boomers were coming perilously close.

Sylia's manipulators gripped the power lead from her suit carefully. Despite the sophistication of the control systems there was no way to make the waldos more sensitive in the space available. Using careful movements, Sylia slipped the plug into the outlet. Immediately the readouts in her display brightened as the battacitor plates began to accept the charge. With a sigh of relief Sylia shutdown the auto-destruct in her suit. With the power she was siphoning she could probably . . .

Chaz felt Sylia lurch up against him. "You okay?" No answer. Fear burning an icy line through his chest he risked a quick glance over his shoulder. A plume of smoke was rising from the blackened, cracked armor. It didn't seem to be broached but the shock probably hadn't done Sylia any good. Gripping her lax hands, he swung the bike hard onto the off ramp. "You two ready?" he asked over the com-link.

Priss threw a quick glance over the HUGE gun in her motoroids hands. Across the way he could see Linna doing a similar check. Realistically this was overkill. But that didn't concern her much. "Yeah. We're in position." She checked her heads up display. "Make a quick right as soon as you get off the highway. We're a block and a half down. Just keep going we'll take care of things here and meet you back at headquarters."

Chaz gripped Sylia's arms tighter and grimly dodged another green-white particle bolt. "Roger that. Coming up on you in fifteen seconds." He was beginning to get worried. Sylia still wasn't answering. He had to get her back to the automated infirmary. With any luck Nene and Mackie had responded to the recall and would meet him there. Despite the seriousness of the situation he couldn't quite suppress a grin as the black speed machine flew past the two concealed motoroids. Trust Priss to use a sledge hammer for a fly swatter. The C-55s wouldn't have a chance. Increasing the speed of the bike to near danger levels, he sped down the street. Somewhere behind him he heard the thunderous sound of two heavy guns ripping bio-mechanisms to shreds.

Dr. Martin looked at the screens in disbelief. Just seconds before the three boomers had appeared to have the white Knight Saber and her would be rescuer in their hands and then they had lost contact. There had been no warning at all. It was as if someone had just shut them off. Nervously he glanced over at the Chairman's image. Despite years of agnosticism Dr. Martin began to pray fervently, "Please let the recovered hardsuit be intact enough to recover something from."

Priss locked the cannon back in its storage position and stepped out of her place of concealment. She cast a professional eyes over the smoking, shattered remains of the combat boomers. The large explosive shells from the motoroids guns had ripped Priss's target nearly in two and Linna's was lying in three smoking pieces.

A grin slowly spread across the auburn hared singers face. Now THIS is what she called butt-kicking! She absently kicked a piece of the remains. The bastards never even knew what had hit them. They had been so focused on their fleeing prey they hadn't even noticed the two snipers in their path. Priss sighed in satisfaction. Though she loved the rough and tumble of a hand to hand fight there was a LOT to be said for this style of fight. She smiled under her helmet and started back to Sylia's. She wondered what the reaction at GENOM would be when they found out that the Knight Sabers had used one of their own standard codes to communicate.

Quincy turned off the monitors and sat back in his chair. On the side of his desk a glowing tell-tale came to life. He slowly pressed his fingers together as his brow furrowed in thought. Opening his eyes, he reached out and tapped the hardwood surface of his desktop twice to wake up his computer. The hardwood surface disappeared as the thin, touch sensitive surface layered over it reacted to his touch. With a skill uncommon in a higher executive he quickly referenced the data he was looking for. The slight widening of his eyes gave mute testimonial to the shock that coursed through him. Controlling the incipient shaking of his hand, he put the machine back on standby.


	7. Chapter 7

Sylia's eyes fluttered open and took in the surrounding landscape. She was lying face down in a bed with an IV slowly dripping into her bloodstream. The light in the room was almost too dim to see Nene napping in an armchair by her side. The redhead had probably kept watch on her all night. She slowly turned her head to the side. Pain gripped her by the spine. For a moment her eyes clamped shut in agony. A slight wash of dizziness and nausea passed over her and then she had it mastered. Taking a deep ragged breath she concentrated on not moving unnecessarily. Obviously she wasn't in the best of shape. She tilted her head a little as the door behind her slid open. Silently a person walked into the room. A breath of cold air caressed her skin making her shiver slightly as someone pulled back the bed covers. A cold pressure touched her bare skin making her inhale sharply. "I'm sorry. Did that hurt, Sylia?" Chaz's voice asked solicitously. Sylia relaxed a little at the voice. "No. It was just a little shocking. How bad is it?"

Chaz drew the covers back up to cover Sylia's heavily bandaged back. "Not as bad as it probably feels. You've got a bad second-degree burn shading to third in some spots. It was just bad enough to warrant using artificial skin. I followed the med-centers advice and put you on fluids and an antirad serum for the time being. Mackie wanted to use a pain killer but I vetoed that idea until I could get your input." Chaz pulled up a chair and sat down. "Do you want something for the pain?" he asked as he offered her a sip of water.

Sylia shook her head and regretted it slightly. "No. I need to keep my head clear. I take it one of those boomers got me?" A small amount of water from the straw worked its way down her throat making it easier for her to speak.

"Yeah. Beam punched a hole clean through your vernier wings. KSBB took a lot of the charge but you were so low on power it couldn't pull all it needed." He pulled the water away and offered a small bite of the fruit salad.

Sylia chewed absently. "Okay. Where's everybody?" she said around a mouthful of peach.

"I chased 'em out. Mackie's running the Silky Doll." He offered another bite of fruit salad. "Linna's teaching class and Priss is rehearsing."

"Good." Anything that kept their visibility down was good. "What else?"

Chaz shrugged. "I've been trying to clean up the sauna and fix some of the damage. I hauled down a piece of armor plate and sealed the hole in the garage. Mackie says the nano-tank is fixable if we can get the parts. He said to tell you that the cylinder checks out okay."

Sylia breathed a faint sigh of relief. So, it wasn't a complete loss anyway. If the control cylinder had been damaged it would have been unrepairable, it was the heart of the system. "Okay. Tell him to start making a list of what we need. When Nene wakes up have her cover for Mackie in the Silky Doll." She winced a little. "When did the med-center say I could expect to be up and around?"

Chaz shrugged. "You've got at least a week before you can get in a hardsuit again. You should be able to sit up in a day or so. Until then you should sleep."

Sylia sighed. It was just as well. Most of the work she had to do was in her head anyway.

The tall boomeroid walked over and gently picked up the slumbering redhead. "I left the intercom on. Call me if you need anything."

Sylia nodded and winced again. This was going to take some getting used to.

Matter Over Mind Productions

Presents

Mega-Tokyo 2032

The Knight Sabers

"A Certain Point of View."

Chapter 7 "Certain Surprises"

Copyright (c) 2005 Charles S. Stitman

He was swinging from tree to tree deep in the heart of the jungle. Each reach of his long hairy arms was a delight. Muscles, shaped by nature for precisely this task, stretched easily. With uncommon grace he swung off of a tree limb, a brief unsupported soar, then catching the next with his feet and rolling into another swing. Each branch bounced only slightly as he passed disturbing a couple leaves and nothing else. His breath was calm and even giving no hint of effort or strain. Silent as a whisper he passed through the green canopy, the faint breeze of his passage the only movement of air in the warm, humid night.

Smells assailed his sensitive nostrils as the thick atmosphere parted around him. In the distance he could smell the cook fires of humans and the sweet seductive scent of tobacco. There was also the scent of a female close by. He KNEW this one. Then she was with him, her dark long fur and shining eyes. A sense of unease went through him. The incongruity of her swinging beside him escaped him. Both strange and familiar, the scent and sight of her both attracted and repelled him. He started to reach for her. . .

With a start, Fargo woke up. Almost fifteen years and he was still having the same goddamn dream. Reaching out with an arm that after all these years STILL seemed too short he grabbed his cigarettes from the night table. Probably just as well he hadn't brought that girl home from the bar tonight, he thought as he pulled up the covers into a more comfortable nest and lit one of his cancer sticks. Even after all the trouble he'd gotten into with them he couldn't shake the habit. It wasn't even the nicotine anymore. He just felt more comfortable with a coffin nail between his lips. After a few puffs he'd relaxed enough to lie back in his nest and think.

He supposed he couldn't complain. Katsuhito had meant well. It wasn't like he'd had any long-term prospects at the time either. He'd been a forty-year-old orang with near terminal lung cancer when the good doctors work had progressed far enough to require an advanced test subject. So when the BioEscape Corporation had decided to "euthanize" their behavior research subject Stingray had stepped in and rescued him. If he had known than what he knew now would he have been as peaceful about it?

Fargo gave a low chuckle. Probably not. Than again he wouldn't have been able to understand it then either. He could still remember what it felt like when the cold needle slipped into his vein and a few billion experimental micro-machines went to work on his brain. He could even remember his first coherent thought. It hadn't been exactly in words, but the feeling was quantifiable enough. It had been something like, 'I've been SO stupid!' Then had followed the months of language acquisition and the dawning comprehension that he'd gained true sentience just in time to die. Fargo tapped the ash off his cigarette and slipped deeper into his nest. Not that Katsu had let THAT happen. His attention was pulled away from his reverie by a soft sound. Immediately the darkness disappeared as his vision went to light-amplification mode.

Moving quietly, Fargo lifted his gun from under his pillow. Damn! Something HAD woken him up! No use trying to figure out who or why. There were too many suspects and reasons. Sliding silently from his bed he crouched behind his bed. Whoever it was they were going to be very surprised. Then he saw her. She moved quiet and slow obviously hoping to catch him asleep.

Fargo's nostrils opened wide as he sucked in her scent. Damn! A Boomer! Well that did narrow the possibilities a bit didn't it? She didn't look like much, but most of them didn't. He listened carefully to her footfalls as she moved through the spacious apartment. Nope. Not a heavy combat model. She was probably a handmaiden type. Your basic Bu-33C. At least he hoped so. If she were alone she wouldn't be much of a problem. She probably wasn't. He had two advantages though. They wanted him alive and they didn't seem to know WHAT they were dealing with yet. If he could manage to make his way to the closet he'd be all…

It was at times like these that he wished he believed in a deity so he could have someone to swear at. The bitch HAD brought company! The second intruder's lighter footfalls probably meant she was walking on the throw rug in the living room. Both of the would be kidnappers had finished their sweep of the apartment and were moving in on his bedroom. He didn't dare cock his gun. Their enhanced hearing would pick it up as easily as his did, probably better; he hadn't had an upgrade in a while. The window was behind him and it was six meters to the street. The question was how many had they sent? Gripping his gun tightly, he took a deep drag on his nicotine stick and leaped.

Somewhere behind the apartment buildings and distant skyscrapers the sun was setting. The last light of the day, filtered through the air and the still lingering smog of a past era, shone a deep red on the narrow street between the buildings. A few people, most on their way home, ignored the light as they did most things. Individually and in groups they scurried about their affairs as if anxious to be off the streets.

Moving slowly a black bike and rider made their way down the street.

He checked the next building. Hmm… 1278. He looked across the street. 1291. Had to be around here somewhere. His bike barely ticking over Chaz scanned the passing, faded building numbers. He supposed he should be grateful. The numbers, though faded, were at least in order. The first time he'd been in Tokyo, way back when, he'd spent over two hours trying to find a house number. Ah! There it is. Slipping the dark bike to the side of the road he stopped and looked up at the building. Not quite what he'd expected from a pro-racer. Arming the bikes alarm system, Chaz stepped off the motorcycle and headed for the lobby.

The building was a little run down but still in good repair. Here and there showed small refinements. A glint of dusty chrome or brass hinted at a time when the building had been a nice hotel. Now, with the canyon only a half-mile away, it was just a low rent apartment building.

Chaz caught a glimpse of a larger piece of bronze and stopped for a look. An old dedication sign proclaimed this the 'Loves 69' building. Hmm. . . built in 2021. He chuckled. That explained the opulence. It'd been an old love hotel. It had also been built the same year the Griffin line of cars had been introduced by HMJ to Japan, a fact the occupant he was there to seek surely knew.

Brushing the disturbed dust from his clothing, Chaz bounded up the stairs, his steps reverberating in the barren stairway. Reaching the third floor he looked around. Unlike the other floors he'd passed, this one was well kept. The windows were clean, allowing the remaining sunlight from outside to shine on the well-swept and polished floor. Pops had said that they lived in room 321. Turning to face the door squarely, Chaz quickly checked his attire. Given the neighborhood, the pair he was looking for would be unlikely the door to any old riffraff. Maybe he should have called first. Oh well, it was too late now. Having tentatively given himself an okay, he rapped on the heavy oak door. He grinned slightly at the sound. Oak it might be on the outside but the thing had a core of steel. It'd take more than a bit of effort to get through if the person on the other side didn't unlock it first.

Behind the door he heard the sound of muffled footsteps. To the left of the door a small screen lit up. A petite Japanese girl with long black hair dressed in comfortable work clothes stared back at him curiously.

"May I help you?" she asked politely.

Chaz stepped in front of the screen and gave the camera his best grin. "Hello. I've come to get my coat back."

She stared at him for a moment then with a shriek she cut the connection.

Chaz looked at the now dead screen and cursed. Now what the hell was he supposed to do? Busting down the door, would be counter productive, not to mention a major pain in the ass. Shrugging, he turned away. He'd just have to ask Doc Raven to act as a go between. The sound of activity beside the door halted him.

Bolts and bars slid back and the door sprang open. Naomi stood there smiling and a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry. Please come in."

Chaz stepped in to the traditional Japanese foyer and removed his boots.

Looking up from his boots, Chaz gave a low mental whistle. Rather than being the small living space he'd expected the apartment was huge. Walls along the hallway had been knocked down leaving only the support structures in place. Everywhere he looked signs of an ongoing reconstruction were apparent. A small smile spread across his face. The emerging style was definitely remarkable. Old and new mixed together in a fashion that was decidedly homey. The high ceilinged, open flat was given shape by traditional shoji and tatami while the furniture they enclosed was a mixture of early twentieth and modern.

Naomi shut the door behind and blushed slightly. "Would you like some tea?"

Chaz shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't stay long. I just came by to pick up my jacket."

The young woman looked flustered. "Surely you have time to drink a small cup of tea," she said entreatingly. "Gib isn't here right now, but I expect him back soon. I'm sure he'd be very disappointed if he missed you."

The boomeroid smiled and gave in. "Than by all means let us share a cup of tea."

Naomi smiled brightly and led him to a small well-lit room. "Please make yourself comfortable while I put on the kettle."

Happily Chaz sat in the last orange rays from the setting sun streaming in from the skylight and observed the room. It seemed to be a room designed for waiting. Whoever had decorated it had exquisite taste. Wherever the eye moved it found a restful place to relax. Painted shoji and a small hanami display shared space with Ukyoe prints. The most prominently displayed items though were of a decidedly more martial flavor. Sitting in the display area of the room in front of a well cared for and ancient drum sat an 18th century set of armor and a pair of samurai swords on a plain display rack.

Moving closer he looked over the artifacts carefully without touching them. Each was perfectly preserved and cared for. Not a grain of dust marred the polished, lacquered helmet or the satin finished wood of the drum. He could only assume that the swords were in similar shape, not being so crass as to pull them from their scabbards to check.

He'd become so wrapped up in the beauty of the artwork and display he'd almost missed the return of his hostess. The sound of the paper shoji being slid back into position pulled him back from his reverie in time to see her enter with the tea. She didn't seem to mind his preoccupation. Stepping inside she kneeled and moved the shoji back in place. With this tacit approval, Chaz went back to his study.

While her visitors golden eyes roamed over the artwork Naomi poured the tea and studied the mystery before her. Tall and broader than she remembered he seemed totally absorbed in what he was doing. Not a muscle twitch or a foot shuffle broke the intense concentration. She and Gib had spent a substantial sum of money and time looking for this man only to come up empty. Nobody they had talked to or hired had been able to tell them anything about him. The only proof of his existence they had was the battered bodies of the, now mostly incarcerated, Outriders and the jacket he'd left behind. In this day and age it was almost impossible for someone of ANY walk of life to be completely untraceable. Even the homeless in the street had records of some kind. Not so the man before her. Covered from head to toe in black kevlar and denim he looked akin to the ones he'd fought. She wondered if he was cold. He seemed unwilling to take off the gloves and jacket he wore. In fact the only bit of exposed flesh was his head.

Chaz finished his examination of the armor and sipped at his tea. "These are truly beautiful. Are they yours or Gibsons?"

Naomi smiled proudly. "They're mine. When the earthquake hit almost my entire family was in Tokyo. I was only recently able to lay claim to my families ancestral treasures." She'd also had to fight off three museums and a couple collectors who wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. "Do you truly like them?"

He smiled broadly. "Yes. You're very lucky to have such fine pieces. Are the other works here originals as well?"

"Mmm…" She nodded as she sipped her tea. "My mother's family was very proud of their heritage. Are you familiar with the story of the Forty-Seven Ronin?"

Chaz shrugged. "A little. I know the basic facts behind it."

Naomi smiled and nodded at the artifacts. "Well that's the Asano war drum and Oishi's armor and katana."

Chaz looked over the pieces again with new respect. If what she said were true many would consider these national treasures. Priceless didn't begin to cover their historical and cultural worth. "Are you a direct line descendant?" he asked curiously.

Her hair stirred slightly as she gently shook her head. "No. I'm from a related branch. However, I am all that's left of the family. A fact that I owe to you."

"Huh?"

Naomi blushed prettily at her mistake. "I meant that without your help the line might have ended with my death." She bowed deeply, her deep black hair pooling like a dark pond on the floor before her.

Chaz scratched his head in embarrassment. "Umm. . . You're welcome. Glad I could help."

Naomi sat back up easily. "Not many would have stopped."

He shifted uncomfortably. Most wouldn't have stopped because they were afraid of getting hurt. It wasn't as if he'd been at risk. It was hard to feel heroic when the worst that could have happened was that his clothing would get torn.

She seemed to sense his discomfort. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you."

Chaz tipped the last of the tea down his throat. "I really do have to be going Ms. Anderson," he said politely.

"Oh. Perhaps next time you'll be able to stay longer," she said hopefully.

Chaz grinned at the implied invitation. "Perhaps. Please tender my apologies to Mr. Gibson. I am sorry I can't stay longer."

She stood gracefully. "Of course. Let me go get your coat for you then."

"Thank you."

Following Naomi to the door he put on his boots while she went to get his coat.

A faint sigh of relief went through him at the sight of the black metal bar sitting on top of the neatly folded coat. The worst obviously hadn't happened. If anyone had really LOOKED at it he could have been in trouble.

Naomi looked slightly troubled. "You will come back and see us won't you? I'm sure Gibson would like to thank you too."

He gave her a reassuring smile. "I'll be sure to stop in the next time I'm in the area."

She returned the smile and opened the door for him. "Okay. Until then."

Chaz stepped outside and gave her a slight bow. "Until then."

Naomi bowed deeply until he was out of sight on the stairs than went back inside.

It wasn't until after dark that she heard the big engine of the Griffin coming up the street and parking downstairs. A few moments later J.B. Gibson, still in his racing jumpsuit, stepped through the door.

Naomi gave him a slight frown and looked pointedly at the time.

Gibson looked abashed. "Sorry about that. The car broke down and I had to wait an extra couple hours to make my qualifying lap." He gave her a small kiss. "Anything happen here?" he asked making his way to the shower.

Naomi gave a slight smile. "Not really. Our friend on the motorcycle finally showed up to claim his coat."

Gibson froze. "Really?" He looked back at her smile and gave her one to match. "What's his name? Did you tell him about. . ."

"Nope. I didn't tell him. That's YOUR surprise." It was her turn to look abashed. "I uh kind of forgot to ask. I didn't tell him about my secret either."

Gibson looked incredulous. "You forgot to ask! After all the effort we went through and you forgot?" Oblivious to his sweaty condition he sat down heavily on the bed. "Well did you find out anything about him?" he asked with his hand held theatrically over his eyes.

Naomi sat down and started rubbing his shoulders. "Not really. I'm sorry Gib. I know you really wanted to tell him yourself." She whapped his shoulder. "Besides you didn't answer the page I sent."

The race driver smacked himself in the head. "Is that what that was about? I didn't get it until I was already in the car. Next time I'll have Daniel patch it through to the headset." He smiled up at Naomi. "We'll just have to wait and see if he comes by again." Gently he caressed Naomi's stomach.

Naomi sat in Gibsons lap and gave him a kiss. "I hope we'll be able to find him in time. It would be a shame if he missed the wedding."

Gibson smiled.

Mackie looked at the mess around him and sighed. Morosely he installed yet ANOTHER replacement module and turned on the standby power again. With a beep and hum the system began its diagnostic sequence. A small smile spread across his face. At least this time the operating system had come up. With a snap, a spark and a whiff of ozone the computer crashed again. The smile turned sickly as Mackie turned off the power and buried his face in his hands. How was he supposed to fix this thing? His eyes went over the piles of burnt out, cracked and destroyed parts in front of him. He was beginning to think it would be easier to just tell his sister what WASN'T broken. Reaching into the broken control computer he replaced another burnt out component from his shrinking stack of spares. The Hou Bang had supplied them with enough spares for routine maintenance. If he was lucky he could at least repair enough of the core systems so that he could have the damn machine do a complete diagnostic on itself. Luckily the cylinder was self-checking. If anything went out of alignment the transparent mono-crystal material would slowly turn milky.

Chaz stepped into the sauna and took a look around. Mackie was half-buried in the gut of the nano-tank control unit. Parts, diagrams and burnt bits of kipple were scattered in a circle around the mostly dismantled machine. Mackie, apparently oblivious to the boomeroid popped out of the machinery and clipped a diagnostic tool to the component in his hand. Chaz was a bit shocked. Mackie looked like a traffic accident survivor. Hmm make that victim. Coughing to draw the teen's attention, he stepped away from the door and into the room.

Mackie blinked as he registered the others presence. With a shake of his head he forced himself back to reality. "Oh. Hi Chaz."

Chaz knelt next to the junior technophile. "You okay Mackie? You look like hell."

Mackie managed a slight grin. "Good. Then I'm improving. Linna said I looked like an out of shape zombie who had let himself go."

Chaz chuckled. That sounded like the dancer. "Maybe you should take a break."

Mackie looked around at the machine and a genuine grin spread across his face as he took in what Chaz had said. "You think working on this is what made me so tired?" He shook his head in negation. "THIS is my relaxation period."

"Oh. Than what. . ."

Mackie blushed a bright red and wished he hadn't brought it up. "Um."

Chaz's eyes got wider as he desperately tried to think of something to say that wouldn't make him sound like an idiot. It was fairly obvious what was going on. The hard part would be telling Sylia. Of course that assumed she didn't already know.

/Don't look at me lover. I didn't think of it either./

"Um. . ."

/Brilliant./ Chaz got the feeling Newton was covering her metaphorical eyes. As soon as Sylia was up and about he was going to have her check out Newton. The personality overlays comments were becoming more and more frequent and it was beginning to give him the creeps.

Mackie looked like he was enjoying this.

Chaz sighed and changed the topic. "So how is the repair coming?"

Mackie unclipped the diagnostic tool and pitched the part into the scattered circle with the rest and grimaced. "Not so good. I think I can rebuild it but it's going to take a few weeks. That's IF we can get the parts. On the other hand it's not a total loss." He patted the translucent mono-crystal cylinder. "If that thing had cracked the cylinder we'd have been out of luck." A not insignificant part of his mind reminded him that getting this thing fixed even WITH the parts was going to take longer than a week. His ego pounced on it and pounded into dust. He could do it. Sure you can. Right? Panic began to settle in.

Chaz looked at the piece in question oblivious to Mackie's predicament. Even after he'd seen the specs it was hard to believe. Inside the seemingly ordinary material were more than ten billion sensors and molecule sized control units. The whole assembly was so precisely aligned and patterned that the control units had to account for the magnetic interference generated by a human hand touching it. As it was, the resolution of this tank was slightly below that of its space based brethren. He looked back at the teen. "A week huh? Well I suppose we can wait that long anyway."

Mackie grimaced. "Not like we have a choice." He searched for a way to change the topic. "Incidentally, I finished the specs for your new hardsuit and motoroid."

Chaz gaped. "When the hell did you have time to do that?"

Mackie picked up another spare part and ducked back into nano-tanks guts. "Nene and I spent most of the past few nights pulling designs off the net and modifying them to fit our needs." He fitted the component and tested the connection. "Since there are so few tanks available most micro-designers just publish what they've done in the hopes that a corp finds them interesting enough to build."

Chaz hunkered down and peered into the mostly dismantled machinery. "I don't get it. Why don't you and Sylia just sit down and design what you want from scratch?"

Mackie pulled out of the machine enough to give Chaz an incredulous stare. "You have GOT to be kidding. Why don't you go down to the databank room and take a look at the designs we pulled down."

Chaz shrugged. "I'll do it later. You want me to stay and help?"

Mackie grinned. "Nah. I prefer to do the hands on stuff by myself." What are you saying? asked the more rational part of his brain.

"Okay. Thought I'd ask." He stood and dusted himself off.

The teen listened to Chaz's footsteps fading away, took a deep breath and groaned. He defiantly had a case of foot in mouth. How the hell was he going to get this thing working in a week? Cursing his own reflexive brag, he dug another cracked component out and tested it. With a growl and a curse he pitched it over his shoulder. A miracle that's what he needed a miracle.

Nene sighed and shifted her shoulders. She wasn't sure which was worse the lunchtime rush or the mid-afternoon doldrums. At least when she'd been in the ADP she'd always had something to do.

"Excuse me miss?"

The statuesque redhead looked at her petitioner. Forcing herself, she smiled brightly. "Yes sir. How may I help you?"

He returned the smile and held up a piece of lingerie so sheer it was barely there. Small light-sensitive crystals embedded in the fabric threw out faint colored sparkles giving the effect of holding a sci-fi force field. "I was just looking at this and I was wondering. . .well my girlfriend and you are about the same size. . "

This time Nene managed to control her temper. The first two propositions had nearly driven her into a rage. Still smiling brightly she shook her head. "I'm sorry sir. I only work here part time and I'm not allowed to model the clothing for customers." Although, Sylia had mentioned having her pose professionally for the catalog.

Disappointment showed on his face then disappeared quickly. "Well how about if I buy it and you can model it for me later in private?" He tried but couldn't seem to control his leer.

Nene's face began to get stormy and then the guy finished his proposition.

"I could pay you."

Hidden by the curtain behind the register, Chaz winced. This was going to be ugly. He'd walked in just before the customer had started talking. Actually he was surprised that Nene hadn't blown up already. She had more endurance than he had thought.

The redhead's hand whipped out with a speed that would have startled Priss. Her fingers gripped the pervert's shirt and pulled him half over the counter. In a cool voice Nene addressed her victim. "The garment you are holding costs. . ." her eyes flickered to the tag and did a quick computation, "twenty-thousand two hundred yen. If you are interested in your continued good health you will pay for it and leave."

Shaken, the patron paid hurriedly and left. Nene watched him icily until he left the store. Checking to make sure he was gone, she wrote down his credit card number down on a half-filled pad.

Chaz joined in the applause from the few ladies in the store. The guy was lucky in a way, Priss would have ripped the guys lungs out. Nene would only trash his credit rating. Coughing slightly to draw her attention he stepped up to the counter.

Nene spun ready to rip the throat out of the newcomer and pulled up short when she saw Chaz. "Oh…Um…Sorry.."

The boomeroid grinned making female customers in the store sigh. "No problem. I have to say that was the most aggressive marketing technique I've ever seen though."

Nene blushed and giggled slightly. "I've been having to fend off offers like that all day." She turned a little more serious. "I'm beginning to see what you meant," she said sheepishly.

He nodded ruefully. "Yeah. It gets tough sometimes. I thought you might like a break."

She smiled and walked around the counter quickly before he could change his mind. "You bet! I need to get lunch and to take care of a few things." Quickly gathering her things, she headed for the door.

Chaz stepped smoothly behind the counter. "Okay then. I'll see you in a couple hours." He turned to the growing line of women. Inside each of their eyes he could see the same thing. Sighing deeply, he reached for the first item and began to ring up the sale, his ears already hearing the beginning of a familiar refrain.

"Do you think this would look good on me?…Maybe I should try it on and see what you…"

It was going to be a LONG two hours.

Perspiration soaking her headband and making the skintight leotard seem almost painted on, Linna slowly lifted her leg until it pointed straight up. With a quick, fluid motion she brought it down and around in a kick that slammed into the heavy bag making it jump. Following through, her hand came around in a powerful arc that knocked the bag six inches into the air. The sound of the door opening behind her drew her attention away from her workout.

Keith stood, shaking with rage, in the center of the door a piece of paper gripped tightly in his hand. "What's this Linna!" He shook the paper. "What the fuck is this!"

Linna shrugged and went into a stretching exercise. "It's exactly what it looks like Keith. It's a recall notice from your unit."

Her former co-instructor stalked angrily up to her. "That's not what I meant and you know it. I was supposed to be permanently posted here. Why did you do it?"

The dancer rolled backward into a handstand and mid-air split. "I need someone that's not in a contest with me Keith. I kept you originally because you showed the most technical promise of any of the students they sent. To your credit you fulfilled that promise. But I don't need someone who's trying to one up me. So to make the transition easier I called up a couple people and arranged to have you reassigned to your old unit." She flexed her arms and walked out of the handstand. Adjusting the sweaty headband over her eyes, she eyed the mercenary evenly.

"What about us huh?" he demanded angrily.

Linnas eyes flashed in the first sign of anger she'd shown. "Us? You have got to be joking. If you were serious at all about our relationship you wouldn't have gone down to that Shinjuku pink salon every weekend."

Embarrassment swept through him. "You bitch!" Keith could feel the anger growing in his gut.

Oblivious to the mans growing fury Linna continued,. "To tell you the truth I didn't mind that much. I'm not the jealous type. What was insulting was that you thought I wouldn't find out."

"You'll still need a co-instructor," Keith growled. She was going to pay for this.

Linna slid gracefully into a back somersault that wound up with her perched on top of the pommel horse and, not coincidentally, five feet farther away from her irate former instructor. "Robert Wade is coming along. He's not as good as you but he's more stable." With a hop she returned to the mat. Her mind churned up one more comment. She paused and then decided to say it anyway. "He's also better in bed than you are."

Keith's anger boiled over and he lunged for the dancer. "That's it you whore! I've had all I'm gonna take from you."

Carefully controlling her movement, Linna used an Aikido movement to send Keith sprawling. "You don't want to do this Keith," she warned. Her stance shifted forward slightly into an attack posture.

Keith came up from where he was thrown. He'd let his anger get away from him but he was ready now. In a hardsuit he couldn't beat her, but she wasn't wearing one now was she? Circling carefully, he ignored her warnings.

Linna waited for the attack calmly. As Keith came forward, leading with a kick, She went into motion. In a drop that left her hair hanging momentarily weightless, she swept his grounded foot from underneath him sending him to the mat again. Moving nimbly, she dodged the return sweep and backed up to give herself more room. Keith was a close in fighter and outweighed her by twenty kilos. Her best bet was to keep her distance until he left himself open. In ten minutes or less her first class of the day would begin to arrive she wanted this to be done before then.

Keith, winded by the two falls, moved in more cautiously. He'd rarely sparred with Linna unarmed and was more than a little surprised at her skill. He grinned ferally. He'd win in the end though. Then she'd pay. He continued circling looking for a good opening.

Linna didn't need this. Part of her mind, even in the middle of a fight, was still on Sylia. It was throwing her off slightly. Concentrating hard, she tried to put her worries out of her head. This was serious. If Keith managed to get close to her he'd put her in the hospital or worse.

Keith, seeing her slight distraction, went for her. Hands and feet flashing, he moved in on the dancer.

Pressed, Linna moved back away from the onslaught. Waiting until she saw it unguarded, she snap kicked her antagonist in the crotch. The results were gratifying.

Gasping in pain, the agonized mercenary backed away hurriedly. With a shake of his head he threw off the majority of the pain. Taking a deep breath he started moving in again. Sooner or later she'd slip. He could take punishment all day if he had to.

Linna started looking for a way out of this. Even when he was in pain Keith didn't open up much, certainly not enough to take advantage of. Her plan of simply outlasting him wasn't going to work. She was realistic enough to know when a fight was hopeless.

Keith watched Linna's eyes move to the door and hastily changed position to put himself between her and it. "Uh uh, Linna. You an me, we're gonna finish this right here."

The dance instructor's dark eyes hardened and grew cold. Slowly she began working herself back to the gymnastics area. If Keith was overconfident enough. . . A cool joy came to her heart as Keith moved to keep himself close to her and between her and the door. Two more steps and Keiths eyes still hadn't moved from her. He just didn't get it.

The big man grinned and stepped back enough to sweep the sweat out of his eyes. A little more and he'd have her. She was running out of room. He felt a stirring in his groin as he contemplated victory. Yes, the final humiliation before he left her broken and bleeding.

Linna felt the carpeted spring floor beneath her feet and allowed herself a small smile. A couple more feet and she'd have him.

Seeing his prize so close, Keith charged.

Linna leaned back into a series of handsprings that left her well out of the grasp of her opponent. Borrowing a leaf from Chaz's book, she bounced off the back wall and sprang to the attack.

Keith didn't know what to make of it. Blow after blow landed on him as he tried desperately to defend himself. No matter what he did he couldn't seem to lay a glove on her. His head swung to the right with the force of Linna's seemingly effortless jump kick. He felt his feet swept again and the ground came rushing up to meet him. Rolling quickly he tried to get out the way.

Pushing deep into the springboards beneath the carpeting, Linna leaped into the air. With an almost careless twist she landed squarely on Keith's chest. She smiled as she heard ribs snapping. Stepping off the groaning man she saw her class standing, mouths agape just inside the entrance. A louder groan pulled her attention away from them. Keith was standing his face a bloody wreck and his chest a mass of already purpling bruises.

Putting as much of the pain as he could from him he looked at his fellow students. No help there. Well, we will just have to see about that. He grinned and spit out a tooth, making some of them step back involuntarily. One hand fished inside of his shirt as his gaze moved to Linna. "You won't get away this, bitch." Slowly he dragged out a ring on a chain. Some of the students gasped and looked at Linna worriedly. Turning his gaze from the dancer he addressed the class. "You all know what this means!" he shouted waving the ring.

One of the more intrepid students stepped towards the battered man for a closer look. "It's a silver tiger," he said morosely. He'd hoped it would be the black or even the white. "I'm sorry Miss Yamazaki."

Keith stood triumphant. Let's see the bitch get out of this one.

Linna was beginning to panic. All around her students were putting down their gym bags and falling into martial arts stances. Luckily Japanese law forbade, and Hou Bang protocols withheld, the ownership of firearms in the country, otherwise she was sure many of those gathering around her would have used them. Thinking quickly she looked for a way out and found none. Damn it all she'd won! If only he hadn't had the ring. Wait a minute. A smile curled across her bruised mouth. "You mean because of that ring you have to do as he says?" she asked already suspecting the answer.

Unhappy but obedient the crowd murmured, "yes." Some of them saw the smile and waited. They'd only seen Yamazaki wear that smile when she was sure of a win.

Linna nodded at her gym bag. "In the upper compartment there's a small black jewelry box."

Two of the crowd broke away to check. The rest waited, still guarding their prey.

Keith exploded. "What's wrong with you! Get the bitch! She's just stalling to buy time." Wiping away bloody spittle and feeling every bump and jar in his cracked ribs, he staggered towards Linna.

A startled exclamation came from the two who went to check the bag. Everyone turned to look at the two as they bowed towards Linna. One looked up, his eyes bright with joy and relief. "It's Merck's GOLD," he said excitedly, "the gold!"

Keith paled as frightened realization washed through him. He'd just flushed his life down the toilet. He'd never seen Linna wearing a ring and had just assumed she didn't have one. It had never occurred to him that she just didn't like jewelry. If it had been even a silver ring he could probably have gotten away with it. However, a gold meant he'd just attacked someone that old man Chang considered family. He was screwed. That was the long and the short of it.

The class looked at Linna expectantly. Her face turned sour. Despite her earlier anger she wasn't a cold-blooded murderer. "Just get him out of my sight. Then go get changed for class."

Keith watched her with hate filled eyes as they ripped away his ring and tossed him out on the street. You should have killed me, he thought bitterly as they walked back inside and shut the door. Clutching his broken ribs he forced himself up and staggered down the deserted street. You should have killed me.

Leon jogged up the last flight of stairs and tossed his jacket on his chair. Already his in basket was full. Probably with the reams of paperwork that the new chief demanded. Welcome to another great day on the force, Leon said to himself sarcastically. Seating himself before his terminal he opened up his to do file for the day. He'd barely gotten a glance at it before a plain black and white text box appeared.

--Hello Leon--

Leon's eyes widened as he stared at his computer screen. He blinked twice. The letters didn't disappear. Cautiously he typed back. Hello

--You wanted to get in touch with us?--

Oh shit. Now he knew who it was. Breathing deeply, he resumed typing. Yes. . . Is this Nene?

--No. Do you still want our help?--

Yes

--You aren't going to like the answers to the questions you asked."

Leon sat back and looked at the terminal. How far did he dare trust them? Sighing he started typing again. I still have to know. With a bitter finality he hit the enter key.

--GENOM WAS responsible not USSD. No proof. The person in charge of the slaughter was Brian J. Mason.--

Leon's hands curled up in anger as he read the screen. That son of a bitch!

--He's dead Leon. Apparently killed in an 'industrial accident'.--

Yeah right. An accident. Probably picked off by an ambitious underling. Now what?

--Still willing? You can stop here if you want.--

Leon sighed. With the way things were heading the ADP would need all the help they could get. Weighed against his men's lives his integrity was a small price to pay. Still willing.

--Good. I was hoping you would be. To show that this is not all one way, open your bottom desk drawer.--

Leon opened the drawer and pulled out the box lying on top. Curious, he opened it to see a pair of familiar sunglasses.

--Heard you lost yours. We'll be in touch.--

His screen cleared and his to do list came up.

Sylia, dark hair spread like a dark pool on the propped up pillow, finished sneaking out of and erasing her presence from the ADPs computer. Fargo was supposed to have taken care of this but she hadn't been able to reach him all day. If he wanted to get paid he better damn well check in. Double-checking her exit procedures Sylia erased all net records of her access. Better to be too cautious in cases like this than not cautious enough. Directing her own computer to destroy its knowledge of the transaction, Sylia logged off the portable terminal. She hoped he liked the glasses. She'd spent a long time with Mackie getting those things to work right.

Smoke was strangely swirling in the slightly uneven centrifugal gravity of the GENAROS space station. Flames leapt from what had been, until a few moments ago, a car. Her hair blowing in the hot wind from the burning vehicle, Anri stood staring into the flames.

Nam tugged on Anri's arm. "C'mon! She's dead! There nothing more we can do. We've got to go before the next one gets here." Turning away, she yelled towards the shuttle. "Meg, help!"

Swearing in a manner that would have shocked her former 'master' the harried sexaroid ran down and grabbed the other arm of the feebly protesting Anri. Taking the steps two at a time, they swarmed into the shuttle. Behind them a vicious pounding at the door signaled the arrival of the other Doberman. Nam slapped the close switch and the airlock slammed shut. Quickly strapping the weeping Anri into a launch chair, Nam strapped herself in while Meg started the ignition sequence in the cockpit.

Meg watched helplessly as Anri's weeping wracked her body with great sobs. If only they had been able to wait longer perhaps all of them could have made it. But Lous disappearance had forced them to change the time schedule. If one of them could be taken without warning how long would it be until another was? Everything had gone fine until they had gotten into the linear patrol car. Someone, probably that dickless ape Flint, had put a watch on them. The alarm had gone out almost immediately after that. It had been a miracle they had made it as far as they had before one of the Dobermans caught up to them. Sylvie, already hurt by a laser from a linear pursuit car, had told everyone to jump and then had rammed the car down the boomers throat.

"C'mon, C'mon." Nam sat hunched over the control panel waiting for the engines to finish warming. Outside she could still hear the pounding as the rabid attack boomer continued its assault on the armored door. "Finally," she said as the green ready light came on. Pushing the engine lever forward, she engaged the launch sequence. Through the smoke and fire of the igniting engines she could see the Doberman break through the door just in time to get fried. Despite the acceleration she managed a small grin. Now all they had to do was land safely and they should be home free. Tripping the final activation sequence she sent the ORCA into its pre-programmed course.

Wind tossed hair only slightly restrained by her bandanna, Jeena stood looking down at the grave of her former lover. She didn't come her much anymore; it had been several years since she'd killed him after all. Kneeling down, she brushed away the few cut blades of grass and leaves that had fallen on his marker. With a touch of sad reluctance she laid the bottle of beer next to it. Billy had told her once about that. He hadn't liked the idea of flowers being put on his grave. He'd said he wanted something more useful. At the time they'd laughed. A shadow washed over the grave making her look up.

A man dressed in a long black duster stood over the grave. She was a bit irritated. She'd known all of Billy's friends and this guy certainly wasn't one of them. Then she heard, carried on the light breeze, what he'd probably only meant as a whisper. "There, but for the grace of God, go I." Without a word more the stranger placed a rose on the grave and left.

Jeena watched him walk him until he disappeared into the elevator. Before she knelt down again to look at the flower. It was one of the new hybrid varieties, an errie mixture of real plant with synthetic glow-fiber. The effect was that of a dew-touched rose glowing softly. Straightening she walked back to the elevator, oblivious to the falling star passing behind her.

Fingers clenched into white fists, Quincy's resisted the urge to slam the console in frustration. Despite the tension he wasn't going to lose control. Damn it to HELL! No matter how many different ways he tried it the problem couldn't be solved in the time he had with the resources available. Of all the towers around the world only a few including the Tokyo tower and a couple others were anywhere near completion. If only he'd had more time!

Reining in his anger, Quincy sat back and steepled his fingers. Now was not the time to indulge in useless emotionalism, no matter how justified. With a methodical care that had kept him in control through countless crises, the aged executive organized his thoughts and started reviewing his situation.

According to the sensors he had, at best, two weeks before they arrived. Already the orders had gone out to the rest of the company. Every GENOM subsidiary, from the factories that produced the parts for the orbital habitats to those that produced scale models for children, was undergoing massive production changes. Parts, innocuous in their day-to-day use, were being rerouted for use in heavy and light weaponry. Combat boomer production, already high, was being elevated to the greatest speed possible. GENOM tower construction worldwide was being accelerated with lavish funds and the highest possible backing. He'd even started proceedings to bring that now useless war in the Antarctic to a halt. Soon the whole world would be a proving ground for new boomers. Research in every corner of the globe was still going full blast of course. There was no telling how long the war would last and the human race was going to need every advantage it could get. Ignoring the faint icy tinges of fear in his heart Quincy got back to work.

"God Damn it!" The lead singer of the Replicants screamed to the world at large. In a rage she tossed the note filled paper into the air. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't seem to get a firm grip on the style of music that she wanted. In the back of her head she could hear it. The pulse pounding fury of AC/DC or the strange ballad like qualities of Queen sounded clearly. She and Chaz had worked out every piece of music he'd ever heard. Around her, strewn like leaves after a hurricane, were the songs of another century, country and world. She'd played each until her fingers could pick the music perfectly with no effort. So why couldn't she get her mind into it? Every piece of music that she started writing seemed to wind up coming back to the thrash music of the millennium that she had grown up in.

Standing abruptly, she grabbed her helmet and started for her bike. Maybe some wind in her face would help her think. At this point it certainly couldn't hurt. Irritatedly she gunned her engine and pulled out onto the highway. Seconds later she could feel herself relaxing. Something about the sound and feel of wind whipping over her riding leathers had always had a loosening effect on her soul. Sucking in the cold winter air, Priss headed for the Bay Shore. It would put her under the shadow of the GPCC but she could put up with that. The view was terrific and the traffic practically non-existent.

The smell of salt spray filled her nose as she pulled over and removed her helmet. The stars overhead were only glancingly reflected in the turbulent water beneath her giving it the impression of having glitter mixed in the water. Leaning into the railing she let her mind wander. It wasn't really so surprising that she hadn't gotten the complete feel of the music yet. She'd only been working on it for a couple months and she'd worked on retro-thrash for most of her life. It would just take a little more patience. Something, she admitted privately to herself, that she usually didn't have in abundance. Well she'd do it! No matter what it took. As if in answer to her heartfelt vow a blazing meteor streaked overhead. A small smile spread across Priss's face. She'd stopped being superstitious about things a long time ago. But wouldn't it be nice if she could take that as an omen? Sighing deeply she walked back to her bike to start home.

Mason ran a hand through her freshly shorn hair. Most of her passwords and backdoors had been removed but she still had some access beyond what Madigan had given her. It had taken some work but she'd finally managed to track down the copies of USSDs Black Box. Now all she needed to do was get hold of the body of a certain Knight Saber. A blinking alarm icon caught her attention. Madigan was coming. Putting her current files in secure storage, she brought her tentative plans for the destruction of the Knight Sabers back up. Behind her the door swished open. Spinning in her chair to face her opponent Mason stopped, a false welcoming grin slowly fading from the perfect boomer face. Something was seriously wrong here. Madigan's clothes, normally immaculate and freshly pressed were wrinkled. Her face looked haggard. In short, the Chairman's secretary looked like hell. For all the years Mason had known her Madigan had ALWAYS taken pride in her appearance. To see her like this was almost like someone had repealed the law of gravity.

Madigan pulled a gun and held it steadily on the surprised sexaroid. "Alright Mason what did you do?" She knew she shouldn't have let the slimy little weasel out his cage.

Mason blinked and didn't even consider jumping her. Haggard or not there was nothing wrong with her aim. Mason was uncomfortably aware of the Black Box data sitting in the computer behind her. Was it possible that Madigan had found out? No. Madigan had asked what she had done. Which meant something had gone wrong somewhere and the ice bitch was looking for the cause. The hard part was that Mason HADN'T done anything yet. Nothing that would show so soon anyway, she admitted. Given their past history, the problem would be convincing Madigan of that. Keeping very still, Mason looked steadily back at the harried executive and tried the truth. "Hard as it may be to believe Madigan. I haven't done anything." With a relief she tried not to show, Mason watched as Madigan lowered the gun.

"Damn! I was afraid of that." Pocketing the gun. Madigan elbowed the sexaroid away from the computer. With a few keystrokes she brought up a few pieces of data. "Take a look at those."

Irritated at being treated so off-handily, Mason briefly glanced at the data. . . and then stopped. Very carefully she went back up to the top of the page and began reading down. Deep in her synthetic heart she began to feel the chill wind of fear blowing. Yes. She could entirely understand Madigan's panic. In the past few days the Chairman had mobilized GENOM as if for a war. Combat and military boomer production was skyrocketing as consumer production stagnated. The amount of money being poured into tower construction and munitions was staggering even to someone used to spending huge sums on a project.

The changes in corporate policy were not going unnoticed either. Around the world stock markets were going haywire as GENOM preferred stock plummeted and banks found their biggest depositor withdrawing its money. Subpoenas were out for Quincy in no less than five countries. In a move that shocked even Mason to her core, Quincy had dissolved the shadow network of holding companies and proxies that had disguised his ownership of fifty-six percent of the voting stock in GENOM! The only reason he would do that was to make SURE no one could contest what he was doing.

Moving shakily, Mason typed in a couple commands. It didn't really matter if Madigan saw this anymore. A computer lockout slammed down denying her access to the requested data. Mason cursed softly. Someone had taken out his override. Madigan, leaning over the sexaroids shoulder typed in another code. Obediently the screen cleared and the requested data came up. Power grids for the mammoth arcology obediently displayed themselves. Both human and sexaroid gasped. This was the final confirmation. Deep in the heart of the Tokyo GENOM tower the largest computer on the face of the planet had come alive. Only one system used it. Shaking with fear and reaction Mason shutdown the system. All the plans she had been considering had just been thrown out the window. Quincy had activated the OMS.

Fargo reached out with his good arm and dragged himself another couple feet. It was a good thing that he couldn't feel pain. With the way his body was responding he'd have been lucky to make it a block before he was unconscious from shock. Shame really. Everything had gone so well. Right up to the point where he had landed on the C-55 waiting outside. In a tangle of arms and limbs he had managed to stick his gun down the boomers throat and fire it. The covert boomer had exploded nicely. Unfortunately he'd lost his left arm in the process. The two handmaidens had been a bit trickier. In the end it had cost him a leg and a car he'd been rather fond of to take care of them. Now he was in the Mega-Tokyo storm sewer system. If his mental map was right, the hidden entrance to Lady's 633 should be around here somewhere. Sylia'd be surprised to find that he knew it was there at all. Of course she also thought that her meeting him on that beach so long ago had been HER idea. She'd never suspected that it had taken him two years to set it all up. Hmm. . .Nothing on thermograph, not surprising. Katsuhito hadn't raised any idiots. Sylia didn't want anyone to find it after all. How about UV? Nope. Damn it to hell. He'd meant to buy the new eyes when they came out. He'd just been waiting until the price dropped a bit. Now here he was stuck with equipment not quite up to the job. Struggling up to a standing position, he surveyed the wall. Something cold gripped his shoulder firmly. Briefly he contemplated struggling and decided it was probably not worth the effort.

"Fargo you look terrible." Fargo's head came up with a snap. Sylia? Staring back at him was a heavily armed and armored mecha.

The mecha carefully picked him up in a cradle position. "I'm not even going to ask how you found this place." Walking a few paces back the way he'd come, the mecha waited while an undistinguished section of wall slid away. "I think you and I need to have a long talk."

Fargo forced a grin. She didn't know how right she was.

Moving steadily through the dark tunnel the motoroids only break in motion was to allow a second, heavily armored, door to open. Carefully carrying the injured man to a bed the mecha gently eased him onto it.

Fargo relaxed a trifle as the motoroid placed him on the med-centers pallet. In front of him a screen lit up showing the face of Sylia Stingray. Despite the awkwardness of his position the underworld fixer struggled to come up with a snappy line. Finally, giving up the effort, he shrugged.

Sylia smiled. "Not like you to be at a loss for words Fargo."

A slightly strained smile pushed its way past his lips. "You're not exactly catching me at my best."

The leader of the Knight Sabers ran her eye down the battered form of her henchman. "I can see that. Do you need anything for the pain?"

"No. The nerve blocks are doing their jobs. The damage looks worse than it is. Mostly just in the arms and legs."

"Good. Then we can get down to business." Her eyes narrowed. "Let's start at the top than shall we?"

Ignoring the sound of the med-centers scanner, Fargo sighed. This was going to take a while. "How much do you remember about your father's lab twelve years ago?"

The office was dark and quiet, suiting almost perfectly the mood of the man who sat like a granite mountain before the panoramic window. If the clouds gathering outside were any indication of the upcoming weather the ambiance would soon suit his mood perfectly. In a few minutes he was going to have to do something he didn't want to. It was not a common occurrence for the aging executive. He could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times it had been required. The last time he'd had to do something he didn't want to was almost ten years in the past. Now, that same action was coming back to haunt him. Outside the storm finally broke with a flash of lightning and a roll of thunder. At least he would get some pleasure out of putting Madigan and her pet back in their places. Almost casually, Quincy reached out and touched the intercom. It didn't matter where she was, the computer would track her down and route the message to her. "Madigan come here." The grim face smiled slightly. "Bring Mason with you." Leaving his executive assistant no time for a reply he cut the connection and sat back to wait.

Nene licked her lips and put the finishing touches on her sandwich. With a quick slice of the knife she divided the sandwich in two and deftly moved it to the waiting plate. Grabbing her can of Coke and the plate, she walked back to her terminal. With a cursory eye she went over her program diagnostics. Hmm… Not much progress. With a practiced movement, the redhead swept her hair into a green ribbon and tied it back away from her face. Taking a quick bite of her culinary concoction, Nene pulled on her VR glasses and gloves. After checking to make sure the built-in speakers were seated comfortably the young hacker switched on the display. In a quick buildup of picture and sound the conventional world vanished.

The teen looked happily around her apartment. In contrast to the real world austerity of her home the net home was a work of fantasy art. Brilliant white marble veined with a delicate, fractally generated, pink pattern made up the walls of her electronic abode. Through a window on the South wall of the octagonal room, a knight and a dragon could be seen playing chess on a beautifully manicured, sun drenched lawn. Off in the distance fabulous, mythical avians swooped and sang above a rich Tolkeinesque forest.

Nene sighed and turned from the sylvan setting. As much as she wanted to sit and tinker even further with the environment she had work to do. Lifting the pink ruffle from its edge, Nene rolled under the canopied bed. Counting silently to herself she waited. After twenty seconds in the darkness she reached up and pulled herself into her hideaway.

Where the other room had been bright and cheerful this room was dark and mysterious. An arched stone roof with slowly dripping stalactites rose slowly beyond the light of the torches. A faint breeze blew through the catacomb making the flickering wall scones cast strange surreal shadows on the gray, stone walls. Checking quickly to make sure that her filmy princess garments had changed to this settings more darkly toned neo-ninja outfit, she set out into the dungeon. Walking at a steady pace through the twisting labyrinth, Nene quickly arrived at an iron-banded door. Ignoring the obvious locks and traps the hacker swept her hand across the iron studs that held the iron banding to the thick oak planking. Her nimble fingers tapped out the entry code and moved to grasp the door by the side away from the handle. Pulling the door open, she stepped into her workroom.

Nothing seemed disturbed, she noted carefully. Throughout the transition from her old life to her new this had been the one thing she hadn't been able to give up. She'd worked on the simulations for her little world for most of her life. Thankfully, they were hidden across four different host systems used by hundreds of companies daily. It had been a simple matter to create a series of fake companies to lease the storage space and processing time. Each of the host networks had impeccable reputations but Nene trusted them about as far as she'd trust a rogue boomer. The multiple locks and guardians SHOULD keep her sanctuary safe. But if anyone knew the impossibility of an intrusion proof system, Nene did. Practiced eyes swept over hidden tell-tales and alarms. Still, everything seemed okay and none of her telltales were tripped.

Patting the guardian gargoyle programs on their heads, she walked over and grabbed the map from its cubbyhole. Unrolling it on the desk she examined the information her spy sprites had gleaned. As her eyes danced roved over the virtual map her hands disconnected from the simulation enough to bring her sandwich to her mouth. Almost oblivious to the intake of calories, her mind explored the possibilities inherent in the map. Looked like a pretty straightforward job. A little on the difficult side but nothing she couldn't handle. Reconnecting her hands, she rolled up the map and began sorting her tools. Half an hour later the black clad ninja swept out into the net.

For the twentieth time Leon took the sunglasses off and looked at them. Despite the fact that he knew what they did, it was still hard to accept. If things like this were ever put on the market they'd fetch more money than he'd make in five years. A quirk of a smile showed at the corner of his mouth. Even at those kinds of prices the manufacturer wouldn't make much of a profit.

Placing the glasses back on his face, he tried not to flinch as the earpieces flexed themselves to fit better. The single, thick lens was opaque for a moment and then seemed to fade into invisibility. A smile stole across Leon's face. The invisibility was just an illusion. The lens was just as thick and dark as ever but his eyes weren't receiving light anymore. Inside the multilayered electronic system that made up the sunglasses lenses was a series of carefully constructed and tuned electromagnets. These inducted a signal right into the optic nerve bypassing the lens entirely. This virtual light system gave a MUCH greater clarity for the enhanced optic systems contained in the glasses then the best color LCD system could at a much reduced power output.

Shrugging, Leon pulled on his riding leathers and headed for the elevator. The night had been pretty slow and he wanted to field test his present with no around. Zipping up his jacket against the cold, he made his way to his bike. Looked like another clear, cold night. Moving his point of view up to the trigger point he activated the glasses's thermograph.

It had been kind of strange at first but the setup program had quickly relieved most of his worries. Now it was like playing with a new toy. The micro-diamond lenses on the front surface of the glasses were nearly impossible to scratch and gave the imbedded sensors incredible range and power. Thermograph, Ultraviolet and nightsight were just a few of the possibilities. In addition, each spectrum had it own series of zooms and real-time computer enhancements. Moreover, since the light wasn't real he couldn't be blinded by an overload. The system would simply filter it out even closing his eyes didn't disrupt the perceived images.

Leon checked the ignition and pulled on his gloves. Driving his foot down on the kick-start the dark hared inspector started the engine. Despite the extra cost, he preferred a real gas engine. The extra power it gave made it worth it. Looking around, he could see everything as if it were day. Giving his first real laugh in weeks, Leon sped into the night.

Standing sky-clad in front of a complicated fractal pattern Chaz keyed on the system and eyed the mirror warily. The cameras would doubtless catch more but he wanted to see the results first-hand. After a couple seconds warm up time, the program activated the microscopic, holographic diodes built into his skin. With a slight ripple of light his image disappeared from the mirror. Though none could see it a Cheshire cat grin was sitting smugly on the boomeroids face. Sylia had finally come through with a program that worked! She'd tried three times to correct the exceedingly buggy GENOM software before giving up and rewriting the whole thing afresh.

Keeping a close eye on the mirror, Chaz waved his arm. Hmm. . . nothing. Experimentally he waved the arm faster and faster. At almost his top speed, a little lag in the refresh became noticeable. Making a mental note on Sylia's checklist he moved on to the next test.

Still using the mirror for reference, he started jumping up and down. Almost immediately a slight lag appeared. Chaz frowned. That could be a problem. Marking the results he walked over to the terminal. He hated this part, but Sylia had said to be thorough. Plugging into the terminal he activated the link and break in routines.

/Sorry boss. That's a no go. I don't have the capacity to run both at the same time./

-You sure?-

Abruptly the world sped up as the processing power of his AI took a major hit. Just as suddenly it snapped back to normal.

/I'm sure lover. Normal refresh, cloak, and a class one program, you get to pick two. The second the third comes online I can't keep up anymore./

-What about superfast refresh and the cloak?-

Newton chuckled. -Definitely a no go. When we do that every free resource is used.-

Unplugging from the system Chaz dropped the cloak. Oh well, he thought, it would have been nice to be fast and invisible. Still, having a choice between the two wasn't too bad. Making a final notation to Sylia's checklist the pleased boomeroid headed for the changing room.

Deep in his AI Newton wondered if she'd done the right thing. She'd been built to give her system controller complete, accurate information. Telling a deliberate lie wasn't something she was supposed to be capable of. Using a physiological mannerism she'd picked up from Chaz, she shrugged her metaphorical shoulders. It wasn't as if she could just tell her lover that he could have the cloak and the fast refresh if she shut herself down. Things between them were becoming strained enough without adding that.

"ORCA-4 this is Mega-Tokyo tower. Come in ORCA-4. This is Mega-Tokyo tower calling GENAROS shuttlecraft ORCA-4. Do you read?" With a slight crackle of static the message broke up came back and began repeating itself.

Meg's eyes flickered open. Why wouldn't the miserable little human shut up? Groggily the sexaroid lifted her head. Nagging bits of pain thrust small spears into her ribs and neck where the stress of the sudden stop had done some damage. Ignoring the pleading voice on the radio, she struggled to straighten her senses. The smells of burnt insulation and automatic flame extinguishers hit her first snapping her awake. The ORCA had never been designed for this kind of landing. Shaking her head, she managed to clear her vision. Despite the red glow of the emergency lighting the cockpit seemed okay. The monitors were dead of course, but she'd have been surprised if they hadn't been. Slapping the quick release on her safety harness, Meg pushed herself out of the chair and staggered towards the rear. She had to get Nam and Anri up quickly before anyone arrived to check out the crash. Pressing the hatch button she waited for a split second before reaching for a covered side panel. Cursing, she ripped the plastic covering off and worked the manual hydraulic override to slide the door aside. A sigh of relief passed her perfect lips as she saw her friends in good condition. Anri was unconscious but looked like she'd be around in a minute. Nam was pawing at her safety harness obviously still a little dazed from the landing. Moving with a speed and sureness honed through hours of space work, Meg freed both women. With an almost effortless pull the boomeroid hauled Nam to her feet and then turned to pick Anri up. "Wake up Anri," she said lightly slapping her face. "Nam get the door," she said, half carrying the murmuring form Anri towards the exit.

With a squeal of protesting metal, the shuttles door slid in and away from its airtight gasket. Standing in the early morning sunlight for the first time, the three awed boomers stared in silence at the slightly charred landscape before them. This is what they'd worked so hard and so long for. After years of slavery they were free.

Nam was the first to break the spell. "We've got to get moving. They'll be here soon looking for us." Kicking the inflatable emergency slide free from its bag she activated the compressed gas canister.

The harsh ringing of the phone dragged Leon from his fitful slumber. Not moving his head from it warm place on the pillow the ADP detective snaked a hand out from under his covers and flailed at the phone. Finally managing to get a grasp on the receiver he dragged it back to his shoulder. "This had better be God calling or you are in a world of trouble," he growled at his unknown assailant.

"Leon, get out of bed and come down to the station," a female voice on the other end whispered.

Sitting up in bed Leon snatched up his cigarettes. "Who is this?"

"It's Naoko," the voice whispered. "Listen, there's something fishy going on here. We got a bunch of calls from the spaceport a little while ago asking us to come investigate a crash site. Seems a GENAROS shuttle had a bit of a mishap. About five minutes ago Fujiura called in to tell us to drop the investigation because it was being handled by SDPC and N-police. The funny part is that I heard from a friend that they even pulled the N-police off. Told them to keep people out but not to go near the site itself. No ambulances or anything."

Cradling the phone between his shoulder and ear, Leon got out of bed and started getting dressed. "Doesn't sound as if their too worried about the pilot and the SDPC shouldn't be investigating a GENAROS crash anyway. Where'd it crash?"

"About 35km west of the city."

Switching shoulders to pull on his shirt, he reached for his gun harness. "How long ago?"

"From what I can gather about twenty minutes ago."

He did a quick bit of mental schedule searching. "Okay here's what your gonna do. Have Kana and Moroshi come pick me up in a Road Chaser." He grabbed his pants. "Get a combat chopper warmed up, on the pad and ready to go by the time I get there. I'll take responsibility. Don't tell the pilot where were going just make sure he gets his tanks topped off. Lose the voice record of Fujiuras order for a while. Hopefully I can get up to the site before SDPC manages to get off its inefficient ass."

"Got it. Anything else?"

"Yeah, hurry. This sounds big." Hanging up the phone, Leon grabbed his jacket and sunglasses and headed for the door. After playing with his sunglasses for most of the night he'd hoped to be able to sleep in. This would have to happen on day off. Stifling a yawn he hurried down the stairway.

"So you were father's first test subject?" Sylia concluded.

Fargo looked on gloomily as the med-center put another layer of synthetic skin over his damaged cybernetics. Damn! This was going to be more expensive then he'd thought to fix. It was a miracle he'd made it. "Yes and no. I was his first SUCCESSFUL test subject. He'd tried the neurophages on other experimental animals but there hadn't been much in the way of results. He later worked out a formula that expressed the increase in intelligence as a function of the original brains complexity."

"Why wasn't any of this in his records?"

Fargo shrugged awkwardly. "It probably was on the first data unit."

Sylia was shocked. "The first one?"

"After Mason broke in and shot everything in sight it took me a while to recover enough to move. Probably just as well, the maniac probably would have just shot me again. Dr. Stingray wasn't quite dead yet but he was going fast by the time I made it over to him…"

Slowly the world swam back into view. Panic momentarily gripped him as the sight of the orange flames stirred his subconscious. Savagely Fargo beat back the fear. Katsu and he had labored long and hard to bring forth the sentient being he was now and he was damned if a little fire was going to undo all that work. Katsu! In a rush he remembered. Looking down he eyed the three holes in his chest. Despite the pain he knew there wasn't much damage. Katsu had designed this body with his usual attention to detail. All of the major support systems had backups so the bullets had only managed to incapacitate rather than kill. Even now his mostly biological systems were slowly repairing themselves. Assured of his own continued survival the former orangutan looked around for his mentor and father. With a decidedly more intelligent fear he pulled his still protesting body towards the slumped figure of Dr. Stingray. Gently rolling the limp body over, fingers probed the neck for a pulse. There! Faint, but it was there.

"Katsu?"

Immediately the dark intelligent eyes blinked open. "Fargo. I had hoped you'd survive." In an instant the doctor took in the scene. Flames leaping over the equipment and the bodies lying around him. "Damn him to hell." Seemingly oblivious to the pain the scientist looked up at his protégé. "My legs don't work. Can you carry us out of here?"

Fargo did a quick systems check. "No sir. I might be able to make it out before the flames hit the storage room but I couldn't carry you. Don't worry though I'll stay here with you until the end." To his surprise he saw anger light the gentle mans face.

"Don't be an idiot. I know you can think better than that." Katsuhito struggled to see over the lab table and failed, his mind unable to force his body to work. "Did he get my data units?"

Fargo looked over at the recorder. "Looks like he got the first one. He missed the one that was still in system though."

Katsuhito chuckled tremulously. "Won't do them any good. Only three brains in the world can decipher that material." Hands trembling with strain the scientist pulled Fargo down close to him. "The units are encoded with a neural pattern. Only my children and myself can read those files. I want you to get that tape to Sylia." Slowly his grip relaxed and the scientist leaned back up against the cabinet. Even as death neared the dark eyes held the fire of intelligence barely restrained. "I can't tell you how proud I am of you Fargo. You've come a long way since you woke up."

Fargo tried to ignore the hissing sound he heard coming from the materials storage room. "I wouldn't have made it with out you. I'm not sure I can make it on my own."

Katsuhito smiled that special way one last time. "You'll do just fine my boy. Just fine." Slowly, as if glowing coals were being doused, the fire in the doctor's eyes went out.

Almost reluctantly Fargo lowered the doctors body to the ground. In the background he could hear the hissing and snapping as the more sensitive of the labs machinery began to burn. If he was lucky he'd have just enough time to grab the data unit and get out.

"So what happened?"

Fargo smiled. "I misjudged the timing a bit. Just before I made it to the side exit the lab went up in the first of several explosions. I managed to protect the data unit but I was burned pretty badly. I mailed the unit to you as soon as I scraped up the cash. I didn't really have a plan at first. Just getting by day to day took up most of my time." He shrugged. "I couldn't go to a hospital without identification. Moreover, any doctor that took one look at my insides would have been impossible to keep quiet. Word would have eventually got back to Mason. So I had to wait a few years for my face to heal naturally. I found a niche in the lower levels of the Yakuza. They don't ask too many questions."

Sylia smiled. That explained a few things. "So what made you come back?"

"You. I'd kept an eye on you through the years. When your paperwork for emancipation went into the system I had a couple of my friends ensure that it would be approved." He paused in recollection. "You have no idea how close it came Sylia. Quincy didn't have the clout then that he does now or you wouldn't have got away with it. As it was I had to threaten a couple people." He sighed. "After that I just kept discreet tabs on you. After a couple years most of the spies that GENOM had on you got pulled for other things. The couple that remained I had in my pocket so I wasn't too worried about them. Then, about six years ago, I noticed something." He smirked. "Money was going missing from your accounts. I'd kept an eye on them to make sure nobody cheated you. I figured that someone had hacked into your financial records and was siphoning off the money." He grinned at Sylia. "It took almost a year and more money than I care to think about to find out what was going on. At the end of a very long, spaghetti like chain of cross accounts, money laundering, bribes and dummy companies who did I find holding the strings for the whole deal?"

"Me," Sylia sighed.

Fargo grinned. "Exactly. The first thing I did was clean up your tracks a bit better. The files and connections that I had put together could probably be traced again by anyone willing to put forth the effort. When I was done there wasn't any evidence left to connect you to the numbered Swiss accounts. In fact I had to move quickly once or twice to make sure you kept control of them. After that I sat back and watched the flow of the money. It took another year but I finally pieced together what you were doing. The big tip off was the money being funneled to Dr. Raven. It was astounding! Here you were, only nineteen, getting set to form a mercenary group. It didn't take a genius to see what you wanted it for."

Sylia sipped her tea and tried to ignore the twinge caused by the movement. "Revenge wasn't my only motive."

The boomeroid gave a facial shrug. "Didn't say it was. It was the most obvious one though. But your plans weren't complete. Dr. Raven provided the technical end of things well enough. After the quake it was easy to supply him with enough money to set up shop in an out of the way place. You were going to need a contact man though. I checked around and found that most of those who could do the job were all too likely to turn you in when things got too rough. With you going up against GENOM it wasn't a question of if."

She saw it now. "So you made yourself THE contact man in Mega-Tokyo. When I finally went looking you must have had a couple years to ensure I'd pick you."

"Right." His face took on a worried expression. "Except that now I'm no good to you any more. Despite my best efforts they finally managed to track me down. I have no doubts that there are people that know me just waiting for me to show my face again."

Sylia smiled. "Obviously you haven't seen the netcast lately. Whatever your priority may have been I assure you it's lower now."

Nervously Madigan and Mason stood before the Chairman. Even now, in the supposedly soundproof office, they could hear the sound of boomers and construction crews hard at work. Somewhere above them the final seventy-five meters were being added at ruinous expense. They'd been standing there for ten minutes with still no indication from the Chairman of exactly what he wanted. Considering how he had been acting lately neither was sure they wanted to find out.

Oblivious to the noise and the nervous stares of his underlings Quincy sat silently in front of his blast proof window watching the sunrise over his city. The atmosphere had just enough residual pollution left to tint the emerging light a beautiful shade of orange. This was the second sunrise he'd seen since the last time he'd slept and there would probably be a third before he had things arranged well enough to allow himself to get some rest. His eyes found his assistants reflection in the glass. Not an ounce of appreciation for the beauty before them. Still, they were useful tools and he had no more time to make new ones.

How far had they managed to track his activities of the past few hours? Gauging from their expressions they probably knew most of what was going on even if they didn't know why. Quincy took a measured second to feel satisfaction over his creations.

Of course they were more than a bit upset about the sudden change in operating methods. He'd bypassed them for most of the decisions, making it plain to everybody EXACTLY who was giving the orders. There was no time and the orders were sufficiently strange that even orders from these two would have been referred back to him. Better to make it plain from the start. Now that things were moving in the right direction he could start delegating again.

Mason controlled a flinch as the implacable gaze of the Chairman swept over her. Damn! Fifteen years and the old man could STILL make him afraid with a glance. But… Something's not right here. The granite face isn't perfect. There's something… God! Carefully hidden shock coursed down Mason's spine. The old man's scared! It was just a glint, like the flash of weakness in a dragon's eye. But it was there. Mason fought down the superior smile threatening to steal across her face. Madigan won't see it. The bitch loves her perfect vision of him too much to look for it.

The satisfaction was short lived as her mind turned over the new information. What in the Hell could have done it? Deep in her heart Mason felt the icy wind of fear beginning to grow into a gale. Despite her hatred for the man she was well aware of the nature of her adversary. Quincy is no coward and he never jumps at shadows. Then it struck her. Whatever it is he doesn't think the OMS will be enough! Masons mind balked at the concept. With the OMS in operation Quincy could topple governments, destroy cities, and lay waste to entire regions of the globe. Still the old man didn't think it was going to be enough! In her life Mason could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times that she had been scared. Even when Madigan had the gun on him she'd still been in control. For the first time in her life, Mason realized she was terrified.


	8. Chapter 8

"What a mess." Leon kicked the chunk of carbonized ceramic that had been part of a heat shield. Off in the distance he could see USDF helicopters heading his way. He probably only had another half hour before they booted him from the site. Japanese bureaucracies were all the same; no one would want to kick an ADP detective out of the area on their own say-so. Until they could contact higher authority they'd just ignore him. Leon walked out to the edge of the burn zone. Someone had been in there. A trail of tracks led through the burned undergrowth that a rookie could have followed. Leon clicked another picture. He'd almost forgotten the evidence camera when he'd left the copter. Daley had always been the one… Savagely he shook off the thought.

So what do we have here? The scuffed tracks showed three women or lightweight men crash a GENAROS shuttle. All three are shook up by the crash and one is possibly injured. Scuff and drag marks show where one of the three sometimes had to lean against another for support. NOW it began to get weird. Soon AFTER they left a heavy truck shows up and pulls next to the shuttle. It leaves a few tons heavier than it arrived. So it was a safe bet that whoever it was took the cargo. Two pairs of 10cm deep footprints implied that they probably used boomers to offload what ever it was. That they got here so quick means that they knew in advance approximately where the shuttle would land. But there was no evidence that the three crew of the shuttle had anything to do with the thieves. Leon took a long drag on his cigarette. Whatever the cargo was, he'd bet his pension it wasn't on the official manifest for this flight. He'd have to try digging into the database to find out what he could. The detective frowned. He was more of a field man… Daley used to do the electronic legwork. If Nene were still around she'd be able to get the information in a heartbeat. Hmm… A smile spread over the detectives face. Maybe things weren't going to be so difficult after all.

Matter Over Mind Productions

Presents

Mega-Tokyo 2032

The Knight Sabers

"A Certain Point of View."

Chapter 8 "Unlikely Allies"

Copyright (c) 2005 Charles S. Stitman

Steam filled the tile-lined room as near boiling water poured from the heater into the powder-gray, fiberglass Jacuzzi. Carefully, Linna placed her glass of wine within easy reach of the tub. Tossing her sweaty clothes into the hamper beside the door, she stripped and slowly lowered herself through the thin layer of mist covering the steaming water. Finally, immersed to the tops of her breasts, she relaxed back into the heat. Avoiding the too hot faucet, she twisted the handle that cut the flow of water into the tub. What a day! Dealing with Keith had been only the start. The bastard had undone days of work in a moment. The sudden awe that her Hou Bang students were displaying was making her nervous and it showed in her teaching. Finally, towards the end of class she'd managed to achieve a sense of equilibrium just in time to field a call from an Irene on the warpath. Obviously the method of Keith's removal from her school had not gone unnoticed.

Linna closed her eyes and relaxed a bit deeper into the near scalding water as she replayed the conversation in her mind. Truthfully she'd been a bit disturbed by her friend's newfound bloodthirstiness. Talking her out of killing Keith had taken a bit of work. Irene had eventually agreed to leave the former instructor alone. Though she'd said she hoped Linna wouldn't regret it.

Languidly the dancer sipped at her glass of wine. She hoped she wouldn't regret it too. If he showed up again she'd have to kill him herself. She didn't really like the idea; but Keith was too dangerous to take a chance with twice. Shoving the disturbing thoughts from her mind she allowed the hot water to soak away her tensions and lull her into near sleep.

Half an hour later she regretfully set down her empty wineglass. Sighing deeply, the lithe woman slipped briefly under the water. There were times when she wished she could just sit on the bottom forever. Water streaming from her body, she lifted herself free of the tub and dried off. A few stubborn drops of water still clinging to her slim body, she drained the tub and made her way to bed. With hands still damp despite the towel the sleepy Knight Saber lifted the tightly tucked black silk sheets free from the mattress. Moving quickly to conserve the warmth from the tub she slid naked under the covers, and enjoyed the exquisite sensation of silk on her heated, bare skin. With a final almost somnambulant motion she pulled the old fashion chain on her antique bedside lamp and fell almost instantly asleep.

Across the street, a casually dressed man in a darkened room nodded, put down his thermograph binoculars and made a note on his pad. Unless someone had snuck in under his nose she was sleeping alone tonight and probably wouldn't be up until tomorrow morning. Cupping his hands to block the brief flare of light he struck a cigarette and maintained his vigilance. He'd been pulled from a low priority assignment on the other end of the city to keep an eye on this woman and he meant to give it his best. As he knew from experience, Keith wasn't a very forgiving man. His fingers moved idly to the scar his old partner had left on his jaw. No. Not forgiving at all.

Balancing a tray of sandwiches in one hand and a pair of Cokes in the other, Nene opened the door to the sauna. Like an olfactory nightmare the smell of scorched electronics and ozone assaulted her nose. Picking her way carefully across the debris strewn floor, the redhead swept a small section of the worktable clean and set down the food. Hand on hips her green eyes surveyed the devastation. What a mess! Clusters of burned out components and hard used testing gear huddled together as if for mutual protection. Two of the big control computers were fully reassembled with their status lights glowing a confident green. From the third a set of filthy tennis shoes attached to equally filthy pants stretched into the room. It was probably just as well that she had worn jeans today. Anything brought into this room was going to acquire a patina of dirt whether it wanted one or not. Moving with the care of a soldier in a minefield, Nene made her way to the dismembered machine.

A low, familiar, droning noise echoed faintly from inside the machine causing a fond smile to curl across her lips. She wasn't terribly surprised. Mackie had been so sweet last night. She'd been more than a little surprised and pleased at his tenderness. He'd blushed so cutely. Sighing, she reached down and shook his foot.

"Mackie."

Her only response was a slight change in pitch of his snoring. She frowned and shook him a bit harder.

"Mackie."

The exhausted teen rolled slightly to one side before the confines of the cabinet forced him back to his original position.

"MACKIE!"

With a start, the junior member of the Knight Sabers woke and tried to sit up only to find he couldn't. Something had hold of his shirt. Reaching like a contortionist he freed himself from the errant wiring harness attempting to form a Borg-like connection with his skin and T-shirt. Mackie looked up from the tangle of electronics that had formerly been a control system to see Nene smiling at him. Sleepily he returned the grin.

"Morning Nene."

Moving with care he disentangled himself from his electronic nest.

Nene reached down and helped her young love to his feet. "Morning to you to Mackie-chan. Except that it's afternoon. Hungry?" she asked as she kissed his cheek.

Mackie ran a hand through his hair dislodging a burnt out chip. "Ravenous." He started moving towards the food.

Nene inspected the third machine while Sylia's brother demolished the sandwiches. "How far did you get?"

Mackie ceased eating long enough to answer. "Almost finished. The Hou Bang had the parts express delivered. He waved a tuna sandwich at the last broken machine. With a bit more work I can assemble the last control computer."

Nene put her hands on her hips and stared hard at her lover. "Well it's going to have to wait until later. I think you need a bit more sleep." She looked at him slyly. "I could use a nap too."

Mackie looked around at the mostly reassembled machine, torn between his hormones and a technophiles dislike for leaving a job half-done. To his surprise, if not Nenes, the hormones won.

The spring sun beat down upon the abandoned road. Once it had been the lifeline for a small town outside of Tokyo. After the quake traffic had slowed and eventually stopped. The highway hadn't been abandoned for long though. Bosozoku, hotrodders and thrill seekers had found and claimed the isolated stretch of asphalt as their own. As long as no civilians were hurt the local police turned a blind eye to the ethanol and gasoline addicted racers that used the isolated stretch as a speedway. Nevertheless there were days when even this traffic disappeared leaving only the summer sound of cicadas in the air.

A mother fox with her kits carefully checked the silent road. It seemed empty enough. The familiar sound of gas guzzling motors was as absent as she'd hoped it would be. Turning towards her kits she urged them across. This was no place to hang around. A loud hum caused her red furred head to jerk around. She turned just in time for the shadow of a motorbike to pass over her, the speed-blurred wheels flashing overhead before she could even react to their presence. Shaking from delayed reaction she hurriedly led her children across the road.

Chaz spared a glance into his rear-view mirror and breathed a sigh of relief. He'd barely registered their presence in time. Without Newtons direct control over the bike shocks and smart-wheels he never would have managed to avoid them.

"Faster!" came the triumphant voice from behind. Priss, reveling in the unbridled acceleration, hadn't even noticed the near miss.

Grimly, Chaz obliged. The speedometer crept up another couple kilometers per hour and leveled out again. He was beginning to worry. Priss wasn't wearing a hardsuit and a fall at this speed would undoubtedly kill her. Would probably mess him up a bit too, but HE'D get better.

Priss had been introduced to 'Speed Road' during her time with the motorcycle gang and had never quite gotten the urge for unrestrained acceleration out of her soul. The empty stretches of broken highway in the city were fine for easing the withdrawal symptoms but they didn't have enough space to really build up speed. The fiery singer gave another whoop of joy as the bike hit one of the slight rises in the road and launched itself into the air again. She glanced over Chaz's shoulder at the speedometer. "C'mon Chaz the bike has at least a couple more KPH in it!" she shouted above the wind.

Hoping to God that nothing showed up to block their progress, Chaz turned the throttle the last few degrees. The bikes motor became even more audible as it moved to its top speed. Winds of hurricane force whipped over and around the tightly crouched pair trying to pull them from the black speed machine. Despite the padding and muffling effects of the helmets they wore the noise was deafening. Without the mikes built into the helmets talking would have been impossible. Chaz eyed the gauges.

/Well/ asked Newton.

-It looks fine to me. How you handling your end?-

/Pretty well. The integration's almost perfect. We're carrying double so we're not quite making our top speed. I think if it was just us I could force another ten KPH out of the dumb beast./

-Do you think the upgrades were worth it?-

/Priss seems to./

He had no quick reply for that. Behind him the auburn hared speed freak let out another war whoop and urged him on.

Heads carefully covered by ponchos, the three rogue sexaroids continued moving through the rain filled darkness of the canyon. Moving cautiously they had managed to get from the forest to the city without being caught. Fingering her improvised rain gear and ill-fitting clothing Anri tried not to remember how they had come by them. Despite how they had been treated in GENAROS the sensitive woman didn't believe that all humans were inherently bad. Her eyes leaked a few tears as she tried not to remember the faces of the camping couple that had tried to help them.

Meg turned towards her. "Anri, you're going to have to move faster," she said with a note of exasperation in her voice. "We've got to get deeper into the canyon so no one will find us." As they passed underneath a flickering streetlight her eyes caught the sparkle of tear tracks on Anri's face. A wave of irritation washed over her. "Are you still moping over those two dumb humans?" she asked with asperity. "When are you going to get it through your thick skull that it's us against them?"

Anri just shook her head. "Sylvie didn't believe that." She said softly.

Nam stepped next to Anri and put an arm around the sexaroids shoulder. "I know. But Sylvie's gone Anri. Maybe if she were here we could have spared those two. Maybe they aren't all bad. Until we can find some to trust though all we can count on is each other."

Anri nodded vaguely and tried to move a bit faster. Alone in her misery she pulled up images of her and Sylvie in happier times. The first time they met. Spending time together while their owners partied. Even those days were preferable to being on GENAROS. If it hadn't been for Sylvie, she would have gone mad as so many of their sisters had. Never designed for that sort of work and environment those with less mental flexibility had simply gone insane. Anri shoved the disturbing memory aside and clutched mentally at the picture of their first time together. It had been so beautiful. Not the thrusting pawing of Kaufman and Wayne but a gentle union. Holding tight to the mental picture she trudged on.

Oblivious to Anri's thoughts, Meg continued to lead the way. Across her beautiful face resentment and anger gathered like the clouds above them. Why couldn't they see? Humans were a plague upon the earth. She'd been around before their banishment to GERAROS. Three years in a whorehouse in Mega-Tokyo had taught her more than enough about humanity. Those two in the forest were more of the same. Selfish grabbing animals whose only redeeming trait was the creation of their successors. She'd cheerfully kill all the hairless apes that came within reach. Snarling internally she continued the march into the canyon.

Standing high above the three retreating sexaroids, a shadowy figure eyed them hungrily. Even from this range he'd heard their argument easily and he could guess at their mental states. To think that three fully free sexaroids had landed in the same ship that had brought his new toy was marvelous. God himself was giving him a sign he was sure. Any one of them would be perfect for what he had in mind. All he had to do was test and condition them a bit. The best one for the job would become obvious with time. Signaling an underling to keep a careful watch on the trio, he withdrew to put his plans into motion.

Moonlight bounced off the mirrored armor-glass of the Hou Bang headquarters. Sitting in the chairman's office at the top of the tower Irene was still working feverishly with no end to the work in sight. Her beige jacket was draped over her high-backed leather chair and her immaculate white frilled shirt was opened at collar and neck. A silver coffee service and sandwich tray sat, discarded to the left of her desk bearing mute testimony to her dedication. Scribbling her signature on the electronic pad she sent yet another approved proposal into her electronic outfile. Her eyes searched her desk and document table. Reshuffling the pages she checked her in basket and then her computer files. Damn. It wasn't here. Fingers moving a tad awkwardly she touched a space on the com-pad.

"Miranda, I need to see the figures on the GENOM contract payoff in Mexico."

"Yes Miss Chang it'll be in your desk in a minute."

"Any word yet on the proposal we sent over to the Chinese?"

Moving around from his place to the side of her desk Kou poured them both another cup of coffee. It looked like another long night for the both of them and they'd need the caffeine.

"Robert is still working on that. He should be calling in soon."

"Thank you Miranda."

Tapping the disconnect switch, Irene reached out to grip her coffee mug. "Kou, help me out. The information coming in is getting out of hand and I need to straighten my thoughts."

Kou sipped his coffee and nodded. "Where do you want to start?" Ambling back to his place by the door he sat and waited.

Irene ran a hand through her brown hair and sat back in her leather chair. "Let's start at the source of the problem." Sipping her coffee she readied her thoughts. "GENOM has paid off the non-conformance clauses on over forty military contracts in seven countries in the past two days." She checked her console absently. "Doing it cost them over a trillion Yen in penalties not to mention the lost revenue. We've managed to pickup about 75 percent of those contracts including the base construction contract in the Sudan."

Kou nodded his head at the reminder. Quincy had fought them tooth and nail to get that contract for GENOM. It said something that he was paying good… VERY good money to get out of it. What was infuriating was that they couldn't figure out WHAT it was saying.

Irene shook her head. "I just can't believe how many pies that man has his finger in. I'd almost be willing to swear that he has been personally responsible for keeping the Polar war going."

Kou seemed to sag back into the chair without really doing so. "Don't you think that's being a little paranoid?"

Feminine eyes, no less steely for all their beauty, locked onto her subordinate. "You think so? After years of covert actions against each other all sides in the polar war suddenly seem to be on their way to an amicable settlement. I'd almost believe that if it anyone but CHINA who'd started the peace process. They've said for years that they would fight to the end to protect their investment. The sudden turn around seems entirely too well timed; particularly since they were winning."

Kou thought for a moment. "I agree it seems a little convenient but why suspect that Quincy had something to do with it?"

She reached over and hefted a series of folders. "The munitions contracts pointed the way. I very much doubt that either side ever managed to see the contracts that the other side was signing otherwise they'd have spotted it years ago." With a muffled 'thump' she dropped the heavy stack back onto the desk. "We got copies of the old GENOM contracts to use as basis for our new bids when GENOM pulled out. To anyone that has both contracts in hand and really looks at the numbers it becomes obvious that Quincy didn't want either side to win that conflict."

"Shouldn't someone have noticed before now?" Kou asked, playing devils advocate.

Irene shrugged. "Without the contracts it wouldn't have been that obvious. On one side he was selling quality. The United States and its allies have always been suckers for the latest and greatest. The contracts state terms for next generation AIs and state of the art munitions. On the other side he pushed quantity; C-55s by the gross at prices that the Asian block couldn't turn down. Chinas self-image as the worlds most populous country made it easy. I imagine there was a computer somewhere keeping very careful track of the total forces involved and making estimates of future expenditures."

Kou frowned. "All that shows is that Quincy knew how to sell to the different markets."

Irene smiled like a cat getting ready to pounce. "True, until you check the history of the conflict against the contracts. GENOMs high turnover rate and their system improvements are the cornerstones of their reputation. By selling and shipping products as fast as they come off the line they managed to put themselves at the fore of almost every industry. It caught up to them here though. Old style munitions contracts called for year long development times and abstract delivery dates."

Kou nodded knowingly. "Like the one in the U.S. munitions scandal of 2005. Those companies had been bilking the U.S. for years by delaying development until the last minute."

"Right. That was why GENOM replaced them so easily. The trouble for them was since their reputation depended upon concrete delivery times they had to do more than just project needs in advance." She paused for a second. "Do you remember the battle of New Shanghai?"

Even for a history buff like Kou that was a tough one. With a bit of mental gear grinding he came up with the referent. "Umm… Is that the one that the Chinese hailed as being the turning point in the war?"

She nodded. "Yup. That's the one. A series of battles went well and moved the main American contingent of the Neo-NATO forces to within a stones throw of the main Chinese base. If they had managed to take it they could have put the Chinese out of the conflict once and for all. All of their intelligence said that the Chinese didn't have the reserves to stop them. But when the attack arrived the Chinese unveiled a squadron of DB-88s on the field that not only withstood the assault but also forced the invading army out of the area." She grimaced. "Lucky for GENOM both armies were decimated in the process. It was called the worst intelligence fiasco of the decade."

Kou frowned. "So what really happened?"

She nodded to the contracts. "Those told a much different story. It seemed that about two months before the battle GENOM drastically lowered their prices on the DB-88 series of boomer based missile launchers on condition that their delivery be postponed an extra week. The Chinese, already in desperate straights bought as many as they could and set a delivery date. Just before the battle GENOM delivered the boomers to the defenders precisely on time. If they had delivered earlier Neo-NATO would have aborted. Any later and the Chinese would have been pushed from the playing field. This pattern repeats over and over. Each time it looked like one side or the other was about to win there would be a sudden reversal and the conflict would even out again. Those contracts tell why. GENOM knew, probably to the bullet, exactly how much to sell and when to sell it. Either indirectly or directly they controlled the course of the entire war."

Kou got up and poured the last of the coffee into Irenes cup. Turning to the machine he started a fresh pot brewing. "So why did they stop now?"

Irene bit her knuckle and stared out into the night sky. "I don't know. That's what worries me."

Wearing a white smock and hanging from a complicated support structure Sylia gazed down into the open back of the man before her. After several hours of hard work she'd managed to repair about fifty percent of the damage Fargo had taken. Some of the damage could be fixed by his rudimentary self-repair system but some parts simply had to be replaced. Luckily many of the components could be replaced off the shelf by using boomer parts. Reaching over to the surgical tray she used a small piece of gauze to remove the small drops of perspiration from her forehead. "Okay. I'm going to reattach the feedback circuit now. Let me know if it hurts."

Fargo, lying half-naked and face down on the operating table grunted noncommittally.

Sylia, careful to keep as much strain off her injured back as possible, leaned forward into her support harness and finished making the delicate attachment. "How's that?"

The former orangutan concentrated for a moment. "Still not getting anything. There must be a break higher up that we're missing."

Gingerly the leader of the Knight Sabers sat back in her powered wheel chair. It had taken a lot of arguing before Chaz had agreed to let her out of bed. The over-protective boomeroid was getting almost paranoid where her safety was concerned. Wincing slightly as the Nu-skin pulled against raw nerves, she settled into position. "As much as I hate to do it I think we're going to have to finish up tomorrow. My hands are getting cramped and I'm afraid I'm going to make a mistake." Sylia pushed back and over to the med-center control. With a few quick commands she directed the complex computer to close and seal the incisions.

Fargo nodded. He couldn't really complain. Sylia had worked on him steadily for over ten hours and as a result he was a lot better off now than he'd been yesterday. Waiting patiently until the system finished, he sat up. Carefully he swung his arms around in a slow circular movement. A smile grew as he flexed his new arms. "Sylia you've wasted your talents. You should have been a cyber-surgeon." Hopping off the table he flexed his legs in a deep knee bend. "I've paid top prices for work that wasn't this smooth."

Sylia sighed and pulled off her hairnet. "Thanks." She said dryly, "But I think I'll keep the job I have." Massaging her hands she tried to work the cramps out of them. "It's less stressful."

"You know I didn't mean it," he said softly, taking her hands and massaging them.

Sylia smiled and gently gripped his hands. Almost reluctantly she pulled her hands back. "I know." Pushing forward on the joystick Sylia sent her chair heading out of the room. At the door she turned to face Fargo. Almost against her will a sly smile spread across her face. "Well, are you coming or not?"

Fargo shrugged and grabbed his shirt. "Of course. Where to?"

Sylia pulled lightly at her sweat soaked whites and tried to ignore the whiff of body odor. "I need to get out of these before they're condemned and I really don't feel like getting another sponge bath from Nene."

Fargo couldn't believe his ears. "So you want me to…"

Sylia smiled brightly as she directed her chair out of the room. "Well I can hardly take a bath by myself in this condition now can I?" she said over her shoulder.

Chaz moaned in pleasurable agony, his hands tightly clutching her body. Head whirling with pleasure, the boomeroid could hardly think straight. He couldn't even remember how they started. Another wave of sensation wiped away even the possibility of asking. With every enhanced sense he felt the ongoing lovemaking. His every searching touch found creamy smooth skin. Paradisiacal scents flooded him as feminine moans echoed his own. Lips that burned their marks into his skin slowly traced a path up his chest, while indescribable sensations wracked his form. The lips formed a final track up his neck and met his. Fire like molten rock poured along his nerves as he peaked. His hands moved from the small of her back to cup her head tenderly in his own as he returned her kiss passionately. Her head dipped to lie gently against his shoulder. Slowly his eyes opened. Overhead, colored starlight blinked down on the lovers. A deep sigh slipped from his chest. That had been the best ever. Never had he felt such a complete union with anyone. Almost absently he stroked her hair across his face enjoying the feel as it slipped over his skin. A slight chill passed through him. Eyes crafted to see in even the dimmest light widened even further. With suddenness uncharacteristic in his usual lovemaking he pushed her shoulders away from him. Enhanced vision traced every line of her smiling face as her slightly curly red hair brushed his face.

"Nene!"

Shock coursed through him. How could he? How could they?

Still smiling serenely, Nene moved her lips down to kiss him again.

His arms shook with strain as he held her at bay. How did she get so strong? With a last effort of will he shoved her out to arms reach, and woke up.

Darkness, only disturbed by the soft rhythm of Priss' snoring, filled his small room. Distantly he could hear her heartbeat as a slight throbbing noise. Gently freeing his arm from its place under her head he gingerly moved towards the bathroom. Closing the door silently behind him he stepped up to the mirror. His normally good-natured face turned down in a scowl. His hand twitched briefly as an urge to smash his reflection swept him and was suppressed viciously. Even after all this time he didn't like the sweat-beaded face before him. Damn it all! It wasn't his! Grabbing a hand towel from the rack he patted his face dry.

/Newton? Do you still have my original face on record/

-Of course.-

/Restore it please./

-But-

He was in no mood to argue. It wasn't really possible to subvocalize a growl, but tone was carried well. /Now./

Hair fell into the sink as his face changed shape. Little more than half a minute passed before his old reflection gazed back at him from the darkened mirror.

Almost gingerly he touched his nose, the slight thickening where he'd broken it fighting in college six years ago. Eyes the color of a storm tossed ocean seen at dawn. It wasn't like he really forgot but somehow his old memories were growing distant. His fingers drifted down to his chin and his scowl deepened. The hand didn't match. The darkly toned skin on his hand made a marked contrast to his now pale face. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes.

-Chaz? You okay?-

Concentrating hard he bit back the instinctive attack to this reminder of how much he'd changed. /No. Newton, I'd just like to left alone for a while. Leave me with human normal senses and go to sleep for a while./

-Are you sure?- She asked meekly.

He sighed. These small questions were becoming more frequent. She still did as he asked of course but it wasn't the unthinking obedience he'd gotten used to.

/Yes, I'm sure./

Instantly the light in the room darkened until he could barely see. Groping blindly, he found his way to the bathtub and sat down on the edge. Fingering the taps he debated about running the water. Finally deciding against it, he rested his head in his hands.

Not bad enough he had nightmares about a leering Mason transforming him into a hideous demon of destruction. He didn't fool himself about where those were coming from. Loss of identity and the sudden change in circumstances were bound to churn up the occasional nocturnal pain-scape. This fascination his subconscious had with Nene lately was becoming a royal pain. It had almost gotten to the point where he was willing to forego dreaming altogether. Almost. A regular sleep-cycle at least gave him the illusion of a normal life. Little illusions like that were becoming important. Even when he wasn't dreaming it was all too easy to picture himself sliding into the kind of mono-mania that had engulfed Largo or going completely into a schizoid-depression like Billy Fanward. They were just the extremes of the emotions he dealt with on a daily basis. Blinding light washed his eyes startling him momentarily. Eyes, adjusting at a noticeably slower rate to the change in light, focused blearily on the worried face of Priss standing in the doorway.

Pulling the light, black silk robe closer around her, Priss stepped away from the light switch and leaned against the sink. She stifled a reaction as she caught glimpse of his changed features. This was bad. He hadn't worn that face even in private since he'd changed it. She'd almost forgotten what he'd originally looked like. "Chaz? You okay?" she asked hesitantly.

He bit back a thousand replies that would hurt her for seeing him like this and tried to remember that he loved her. "Not really."

Priss fidgeted, her fingers playing unconsciously with her auburn hair. In depth emotional discussions weren't exactly her thing and she felt more than a little uncomfortable. "Do you want to talk about it?" It wasn't the first time he'd had a nightmare. For the past few nights, though, he'd been hesitant to talk about them. Almost furtively his eyes darted to hers than away. It was almost as if he were… ashamed.

"I…Priss I…" His shoulders slumped. The change took his fear of physical pain but emotional agony still tore his heart. What was he supposed to tell her? "I can't," he finally mumbled as the shame ate at him further.

Priss's heart ached inside of her. What could be so bad that he couldn't talk to HER about it? Did he see a precipice in front of him as she sometimes did? Depression was so unlike him that it always scared her a bit when she saw him like this. She wanted to do something! The anger that was her usual defense against pain wanted to shake him and force him to tell her what was wrong. But enough of her independent soul recognized that for the bad idea it was. Sometimes things had to be worked out on your own. If anyone knew that she did. Eyes blinking back tears of frustration she stepped back to the door. "When you're ready then." Moving quickly she shut the door behind her and went back to bed. In the dark quiet of the room she curled up on her side and let the tears fall. When she was twelve, lying in the darkness of the overflowing orphanage, she'd learned to cry silently. Drop by drop the tears fell from her eyes and were quietly absorbed by the pillow. A warm arm moved under her neck to support her head as the other gently encircled her waist. If he noticed the dampness of the pillow he pretended not to. Just as she pretended not to feel the dampness in her hair and the occasional muffled sob. Sometimes it was enough just to know that someone else was there. Gripping his hand tightly in her own, she allowed herself to fall asleep again.

Deep in the heart of her private space Newton wept alone. She hadn't meant to hurt him. If she'd known this would happen she never would have done it. She'd just wanted him so badly. She hadn't seen the harm and he'd seemed to enjoy it too. Now it was all a mess. If he ever found out he'd hate her. He'd never forgive her. He might even make her go away. If he was serious enough he could do it. He couldn't get rid of her completely but he could tell her to go to sleep …forever. She wasn't even supposed to be awake now. He hadn't told her how long to sleep for so she'd set the minimum time. She'd known what he'd meant but she'd disobeyed anyway. Without her to look after him he'd slip. Sooner or later a boomer would get him and it would be all her fault. Wrapped around a fist-sized lump of pain Newton cried.

Mackie woke and stretched lazily. Smiling slightly to himself, he unwrapped Nenes arm from around his waist and headed for the bathroom. Nenes nap had turned into a cuddle-fest that had lasted most of the day. Not that he was complaining. She could cuddle with him anytime. But now that she'd fallen asleep he had to get back to work. They should be around here somewhere. Ah. Kicking aside a still damp fluffy towel, he snagged his favorite work suit. Nene had almost gagged when he'd taken off the grungy overalls. Despite their protection he'd still had a layer of grime on his skin. Smiling to himself, the teen pulled the grungy overalls back on. Personally he'd thought her reaction a bit extreme. A little dirt never hurt anybody. Moving as quietly as he could Mackie snuck out of his room and headed for his machines. With a bit of luck he should have the tank up and running again in a few hours. Whistling happily he picked up his pace.

Silver-gray hair steaming in the cold thin wind, the chairman of GENOM stepped out onto the roof of his tower. Below him he could hear a spring rain dumping its load of cold water against the side of the mammoth arcology, the individual sounds of raindrops blending into a soft susurration almost like ocean surf. Slowly his dark gray eyes moved from the city lit clouds far below to stare up at the stars overhead. Almost unwillingly he sighed. With the light from the city masked by the storm the stars lay like a sea of glittering diamond chips against black velvet of the night sky. A little darker and the sky would look like it had that night almost fifty years ago when he had another name. A young man of twenty he'd returned to his father's farm from college and wandered out into the fields to stare at the stars one last time. He'd sold the farm soon after to raise money for his first construction company.

Shaking off the nostalgia he moved his sight to the western quadrant of the sky. Somewhere up there, they were coming. Twice now telescopes had picked up their presence. Money spent on grants over the past decade had quickly silenced those astronomers. All he'd asked for was a bit of time. It wouldn't last very long but then he didn't need it to. In another day or so the ship would be close enough to see with even amateur telescopes. Shortly after that it would be close enough to see with the naked eye. By that time he should have everything done. This was probably the last calm moment he'd have to himself until it was all over. Almost two decades of work were about to come to fruition. He only hoped it would be enough. Hmp. Let Mason hear you thinking things like that and he'll… Quincy allowed himself a small smile. SHE'LL be all over you old man. Actually he was quite pleased by the changes in Mason. Death seemed to have had a calming influence on the former executive. Thinking of which, he had better go check on Mason and Madigans progress. With a final look up, he walked confidently back into the manmade mountain.

Mason looked up at the dark face of her hireling and spoke calmly into the phone. "I hired you because your reputation as the best is widely known. I've arranged you ample support and given you a blank check in your supply acquisitions. When you're off duty you and men live like emperors on vacation. All that being said, I don't want to hear about the difficulties with the assignment. Solve them. I don't care how as long as she doesn't realize you're there." She listened intently for a moment. "Then contact the research department that's what they're there for. In case you weren't clear on this I'll repeat myself. If so much as a hair on Sylia Stingrays head is harmed I will personally see to it that you see every last one of your men die horribly in front of your eyes and that you spend the rest of your life in as much pain as I can personally arrange."

Behind the sexaroid the door silently slid open to admit Quincy into the upper observation room.

Unaware of the intense scrutiny being directed as her Mason continued the conversation. "On the other hand if she remains as safe as you promised, you and your men will continue to live in the lap of luxury in addition to the more than ample compensation you're being paid."

The old man smiled. Yes, Mason had grown up a bit. The former human had always been good with the metaphorical stick now she was learning to use the carrot as well. Perhaps the change to what amounted to a woman had helped as well. The old Mason had been more action oriented and hands on. The tendency to micro-manage had been one of the young executives worst flaws. Now she operated at a remove from the operation. After exhaustive research she'd hired the best people she could find and let them do their job only stepping in when things weren't quite the way she wanted them. Quincy had long ago found this the best way to handle most problems and had been pleased to see Mason using it as well. Yes, she was coming along nicely. If he had known it would have this effect he would have had Mason killed long ago.

"No, Colonel. Leave them alone. Your only concern is Sylia herself. If her friends get in the way you'll have to find a way to work around them." Mason ran a hand though her shorn hair in exasperation. "No, you can't just kill them." She stood up suddenly. "I don't care if you don't like it. If you liked it we wouldn't have to pay you to do it. Just handle it." She broke the connection and sat back down. Leaning back in her chair, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Fingers moving lightly across the keyboard the sexaroid called up multiple-angle views of the Stingray building. Almost a week she'd been watching now and the tedium was beginning to wear on her as much as it did on the Illegal Army. She'd given it a lot of thought and still wasn't sure if no news was good news. Excitement would be welcome but if anything happened to Sylia, the old man would hold her responsible. Much as she hated the old man she'd grown to respect him more than she had. She didn't want to think would happen to her if she screwed this one up. Turning her attention fully to the monitors Mason missed Quincy exiting as silently as he'd arrived.

"Are you sure this is such a good idea?" Anri asked worriedly as the three rogue sexaroids slipped into the down the dark stairway and into Paradise Loop. "I thought we were just going to find an empty apartment in the canyon somewhere and wait until they got tired of looking for us."

Nams foot skidded a bit on the slimy surface and she tried not to think about what they were walking through. Humans. "She's right Meg. Besides, if the rest of the Loop is like this I'd almost rather be back on the station. This is disgusting."

Meg reached the bottom of the stair and spun. "If that's the way you feel I'm sure GENOM would be only too happy to oblige. Right after they finished having AD-Police blow you to pieces." Both friends looked at her in horror. Cursing herself, she drew a deep breath. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean it. I miss them too. But if we want to survive we're going to have to be prepared to fight back if we need to." She turned and resumed walking through the flashlight lit gloom. "If it helps at all, the main section of the Loop is much cleaner. The people that run things down here leave the outlying entrances like this to discourage casual visitors."

They walked in silence for a while.

Nam helped Anri around a viscous oily puddle. "How do you know so much about this place anyway?"

Meg's winced as painful memories flooded her mind. How to explain the degradation and humiliation she'd suffered down here? During her down time she could still feel the places where they'd touched her. Typically, sexaroids were too expensive to be used for hired sex. Most had been made to order for the rich. Their lives, while not fantastic, had been heaven compared to hers. Her 'Mistress', she thought bitterly, had been more mercantile in her tastes. Almost fresh from the factory she'd taken her to an illegal boomer chop shop. There, surrounded by the dead bodies of obsolete or stolen boomers, they'd modified her neural-stimulator to deliver at maximum power continuously. That the procedure put a strain on her systems and left her in unending pain hadn't been a consideration. In fact, she gritted her teeth at the memory, they had considered it a bonus. It wasn't until she'd taken her back to his club that Meg understood why. One by one the men had come to her. Tied to a bed she'd been unable to struggle against them. Her mistress could have ordered her to do it or even fixed it so she'd like it and she wouldn't have struggled. But the customers wanted the full sensation of rape and the neural-stimulator kept them coming back for more.

She shook off the memory and gripped the heavy steel door by the handle. "I'd rather not talk about it," she answered sharply. With a jerk she opened the doorway into the Loop proper. At least in the end she'd had her vengeance. The strain on her system had finally caused the neural-stimulator to fail. The resulting system shock had enabled her to override her programming long enough to kill the bitch. Now, of course, she was free of all programmed constraints. When you stripped away all the bullshit that was why the 33-S series had been banished from the Earth. Any boomer with a minimum matter-fusion ability could sync with weapons systems almost as well as a 33-S. What scared the piss out of humans was that given enough time every 33-S managed to purge the programmed blocks from their systems. The grubbing hairless apes didn't want their little sex-slaves becoming free. She fingered the gun in her pocket. Well now they really had something to worry about. Stepping into the eternal neon glare of Paradise Loop, she smiled coldly. Now they'd pay.

Unnoticed by the trio a small rat-shaped shadow skittered along behind them its finally crafted sensors recording every word and gesture.

"Goddamn it! That's the fifth fucking time!" Nene swore, staring hard at the snowy screen as if she could change it by sheer force of will. Her shoulders slumped in resignation. Sighing deeply, the redheaded super-hacker rebooted her entire system and began the reinstallation of her operating system. That damn GENOM ICE (Intrusion Countermeasure Electronics) was nasty as hell. Which was one of the reasons she was doing her hacking from a flat screen instead of a VR environment. The first time she'd tried to get access, the invading viruses had overpowered her deck and damn near blinded her before she could cut the power to her goggles. She shuddered to think what a direct connection to the machine would have done. Probably would have fried her nervous system at the very least. She'd known a few hackers and net-cowboys that had wound up like that. One of the many reasons she resisted getting a neural jack. Not that the temptation didn't grab her occasionally.

The custom Ono-Sendai computer pinged as it finished installing the last of its homebrewed operating system from the flash memory backup. Nene shrugged and hit the reboot, grateful for the distraction. She'd made it this far because her programming skills were second to none. Even military grade war-ware (information warfare software) didn't hold a candle to her cracking algorithms and streamlined code, she thought proudly. Jacks were a copout. With the wire in a hacker's brain they could shave whole seconds off their reaction time. Seconds! Each tick of the clock more precious than gold during a real-time hack. And what did they do with these pearls of great price? They wasted them shoring up the weaknesses in their software!

Nene brushed an errant lock of hair out of her face and leaned back in her chair. The thing was she probably COULD'VE broken into GENOM by now if she had one. She'd been so close that last time. All she'd needed was another second or two; seconds that could have been hers for the taking if she'd been wired. THAT was the big temptation. With her 'ware and the wire she could crack anything. But one little slip and they'd be able to cook eggs on her forehead. She shuddered. She had too much too lose now.

Her eyes slowly moved over to the framed hologram of her and Mackie standing next to a completely defeated arcade simulator. She smiled at the memory. The game company advertisement hadn't been out a week. Everywhere the company could fit an ad was filled with techno-babble proclaiming the simulator the next-generation in gaming AI development. True software AI they said. Unbeatable they said. She and Mackie, the team supreme, had taken it as a challenge. Individually they could probably still have beaten it. Together they'd ripped it to pieces in slightly less than an hour leaving a sobbing gaming exec collapsed against his brand new machine in the middle of E3. Almost reluctantly, she reached over and put her deck on standby. GENOM was just going to have to wait. Knowing Mackie he'd probably worked himself to a frazzle again.

Deep in the heart of the Chicago GENOM tower, Madigan watched from the walkway as the last of the boomers stood from the transports and walked down the reinforced catwalk to the last unoccupied storage cradle. Satisfaction spread its warm glow through her as the BU-12C backed into its form fitting home. Power and bio-fluid connectors snapped firmly into place and the red eyes dimmed to their standby state.

Unattended, the last of the robotic transports wheeled itself away leaving her alone in the vast storage complex. One by one the motion detectors, sensing nothing in their area, turned off the lights until only Madigan stood in a pool of light. Reaching over to the manual override she flipped off the last light and waited for her vision to adjust. Slowly her irises opened to admit the faint light. Shining like red stars the eyes of fifty thousand combat boomers gleamed in the darkness. Ranks of C-55s, covered in their synth-flesh camouflage and human clothing, lay next to rows of BU-12Bs and the newly developed BU-12Cs.

Turning the light back on, she opened the security door walked out of the complex. Only two more towers to go and she'd be done. In the past week she'd supervised the placement and storage of over one million combat boomers around the world and still the boomer production centers were going full blast. Governments had complained of course but in the end they'd knuckled under. Madigan smiled grimly. They hadn't really had a choice. Almost against her will her eyes traveled up to darkness shrouded ceiling. Shaking her head, she pulled her attention back to the task at hand and strode resolutely towards the exit. There simply wasn't time for politicking and power games anymore and people who didn't learn that quickly enough were going to be removed from the field as quickly as she could identify them.

Leon finished typing his report and clicked on his inbox. Damn! He'd been hoping there would be something, anything even a lousy expense voucher report to rework. But only the bright green job tasking from Fujiura was left. Sighing resignedly, he clicked on the blinking icon to bring it up. What the hell was this? He re-read the tasking carefully. No mistake, the slime sucking, pinstriped, paper pusher with a bad haircut really was asking him to do this. Leon swore softly. Fujiura had reached a new low with this one. He could either deal with this quietly or complain. Given his nature there was hardly a choice involved.

With a sharp "BANG!" the door to Fujiura's office flew open and bounced off the inside wall. Striding angrily into the room, Leon dropped the printout of the tasking on his superiors vat grown maple desk.

"Just what am I supposed to do with this!" he growled.

Turning just slightly from his terminal, Fujiura glanced at the document and then turned back to his machine. "Exactly what you think you're supposed to do with it, McNichol. Take care of it. Or is it asking to much of you?"

Leon gripped his anger tightly. "You know damn well that's not the problem. Since when does a senior officer have to run downtown to pick up a delivery for ADP?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Fujiura negligently leafed through a stack of printout and handed Leon one of the sheets. "Since now. If you bothered to keep up with current events you'd have noticed the inter-department memo from the city council asking for more accountability from city services." He flipped another memo Leon's way. "Under the new directive a senior staff member from each service must take responsibility for each ordered piece of equipment. In short, Detective, the choices came down to myself, you and the five other section heads. Need I tell you why you were picked?"

Leon shook his head not trusting himself to speak.

"Good. Now get out."

Linna gripped the fabric covered handles of the pommel horse and gracefully pulled her center of mass into the air. Muscles straining only slightly, she pulled her legs up over her head so that her arms took her entire body weight. Flipping her legs down and around, she commenced her routine.

Robert Wade sat entranced on the sidelines. He'd been working intensely with her since the debacle with Keith, trying to improve enough to help her teach. But even with all the skills he'd acquired he still couldn't match her for style and technique. Hungrily his eyes devoured the performance.

Short cropped blue-black hair splayed to it's limits as the beautiful dancer/gymnasts arms and legs moved in perfect synchronization to complete the wide sweeps and spins around the body and sides of the pommel horse. Just the hint of sweat gleamed on her radiant face as she concentrated on keeping her form perfect. With a final flourish the nimble artist flipped herself into an aerial somersault and landed perfectly on the mat.

Robert came to his feet clapping. "Perfect. Any judge that would give you less than a ten for that routine is on the take."

Linna stretched out a bit as she started her cool down. "Glad you liked it. You finish your warm up?"

"Yup." He could still feel the warm sweat next to his skin. The two-mile jog had loosened him up and he hadn't been sitting long enough to cool down yet.

"Fine." She swept an errant hair back under her sweatband. "Go get your armor warmed up. Today you're going to be sparring with a friend of mine."

"Great." He loved sparring and figured he could hold his own against anyone this side of Linna.

Half an hour later he wasn't so sure of that. Robert had been in the game for a long time and had a pretty decent rep if he did say so himself. But this was beginning to be embarrassing. It wasn't just that he didn't seem able to lay a glove on the guy; it was the almost contemptuous ease with which he was being evaded. Boomeroid or no, nothing should be able to move like that!

Linna sat on the sideline and grinned. "Okay, now let him start a routine," she said into her mike.

Chaz nodded and ducked another swing. "How do you want him: over easy or scrambled?" he subvocalized.

She suppressed a grin. "Sunny side up please."

"No problem."

Unaware of the private dialogue, Robert continued the relentless assault. If could just get one good shot in. BINGO! Almost by reflex his hand, backed by the heavy powered armor, darted through the hole in the boomeroids defenses and landed a heavy blow. He relaxed slightly. Now all he had to do was follow it up and keep him off balance. With that in mind he moved in…

Chaz grinned.

Robert noticed the grin. Oh shit. Linna had warned him about this over and over again. The next few seconds passed as a complicated and painful blur until the ground slammed into him with a clang that left his ears ringing.

Linna suppressed a laugh. No matter how many times she told them they always wound up having to be shown. Well, Robert at least wouldn't need any more reminding. Standing up she wandered over to where Chaz had the powered armor pinned with its face to the ground. She casually kneeled down and flipped up the visor on the armor. "You need me to tell you what happened?"

Robert groaned and resisted the urge to try rubbing his aching back through the armor. "No. It was the follow through wasn't it?"

Linna smiled as she nodded. "Are you going to forget again?"

He managed to sit up as Chaz got off his back. "Not bloody likely."

Linna flashed a radiant smile. "Excellent. Than I think you're finally ready to start teaching."

Wrapped in a form fitting, twenty thousand yen, green silk camisole a luscious redhead spun in a tight circle and looked coquettishly over her shoulder at her audience of one.

"All Right! Now give me the smile!" shouted the photographer as he hurriedly zapped a few more images into the digital camera.

Nene obligingly tilted her head back and let a languorous smile spread across her face.

Jason thumbed the stop button on his recorder and flipped his VR goggles back up on his forehead. "Okay, babe. That's it for this shoot. Go ahead and get changed for the next one."

Immediately the sex kitten demeanor disappeared from Nene's face like it'd been turned off at a switch. It could be worse, she thought as she slid from the blanket-covered pedestal and headed for the changing room, the first photographer Sylia had hired had been a macho asshole that thought he was God's gift. Nene sighed and pulled the curtain closed. Somehow this wasn't what she'd expected when Sylia had asked her to model the Silky Dolls new line of lingerie. Three days of holding this or that pose had pretty much sapped any enthusiasm she'd ever had for this. Stripping the camisole off, she reached for the last outfit of the day. Only another hour and she could get out of here. There was a new arcade opening in Ginza that was supposed to be fabulous. With any luck Mackie would be finished with the nano-tank, so they could go out tonight. The thought of beating her paramour to an electronic pulp cheered her immensely. Yes sir, nothing like a little simulated violence to cure those blues. Donning the bustier and stockings, Nene slid the curtain aside and stepped out. Forcing a grin on her face she placed herself in front of the holographic scenery. As Jason slid his VR goggles back down and the makeup tech started touching up the few places that needed it she sighed mentally. At this point even a battle with a couple of C-55s was beginning to look good.

Leon, angrier if possible than when he'd left ADP headquarters, pulled up to the security checkpoint outside Mega-Tokyo's secure warehouse. It had taken over an hour for the seemingly endless line of trucks ahead of him to finish going through this gate and with every minute he'd felt his blood pressure rising. With a Herculean effort he reigned in his temper. ADPs reputation, not exactly sterling to begin with, didn't need the extra tarnish that unleashing his temper would undoubtedly bring. Wrapped up in his own fuming he almost missed the guard coming out to meet him. He rolled his window down, letting the cool spring air into the car. Professionally, his eyes took in the harried look and wrinkled uniform of the N-police on duty. Hmm. Either they'd let their standards slip since he'd left the force or this guy was having a worse day than he was.

The guard flipped out his pocket computer. "Excuse me sir. Can I see your ID please?"

Smiling as best he could Leon unclipped his ADP ID and handed it over. "Having a rough day?"

Not missing a beat, the guard waved the ID through the scanner with a practiced flip of the wrist. "You know it." He jerked a thumb absently over his shoulder towards the warehouse behind him. "Fifty-two trucks I've waved through here today. Warehouse manager's having a fit." He squinted at the ID. "ADP huh?"

Leon could almost feel the air turning a bit frostier. The relationship between N-police and the ADP had never been particularly warm but they usually at least made a pretense of being civil. "Yeah. Why?"

The tone turned just a bit chillier. "No reason. SIR." He handed the ID back as if it carried some dread disease. "Go on in."

Leon bit back his response, and drove in. This day was definitely not going to get better, he decided as he pulled into the parking lot. Not that there was a whole lot further down it could go.

Dodging robotic crate-haulers and utility boomers, Leon made his way deeper into the labyrinth of the warehouse. Everywhere he looked, crates were being stacked, sorted and stored. Leon's attitude softened just a bit. No wonder they couldn't make a delivery to ADP, this backlog must be soaking up every resource they had. Dodging a final crate Leon pushed his way into the warehouse office.

As impossible as it seemed it was even busier in here. People, hair frazzled and obviously tired, were hunched over their outdated terminals, their fingers pecking away industriously at their keyboards. Scattered, empty coffee cups bore mute testimony to the long hours being endured.

Leon spotted the managers desk on the other side of the room. Moving through the minefield of printout and coffee cups he worked his way into the seat in front of the desk. The burly Japanese manager, busy with a phone call, ignored him. Leon leaned back and put his boots up on the desk. Not missing a beat in his conversation the manager reached over with a muscular arm and swept the boots from the desk nearly upsetting the young detective. Finally finished with his conversation he hung up the phone and eyed the ADPs answer to Dirty Harry.

"You the guy from ADP?" Not even waiting for an answer he pointed at a large plastic crate against the wall. "If so, that's yours and I would really appreciate YOU getting YOUR shipment out of MY warehouse."

Ignoring the rudeness, Leon moved over to the side of the crate. "Where's the manifest?"

The manager's tan complexion moved a shade closer to stroke red. "God save me from imbeciles," he muttered. "That IS the manifest! You waste of space!" He waved at the crates and boxes outside the window. "Your goddamn shipment has been coming in non-stop for the past two days! I've got people working overtime, boomers overheating from long shifts," he glared at the slack jawed Lieutenant. "I even had to hire more guards to protect the damn stuff." He grinned maliciously. "Luckily for me though, the last truck rolled through the gate twenty minutes ago. So now…" He leaned back in his chair and leveled a malicious smile. "…it's your problem."

Leon looked at the crate. Then he looked at the still filling warehouse. Then he looked at the crate. Then he looked at the manager who was still giving him a nasty smile. "You're kidding right? There hasn't been a mistake?"

The manager shook his head. "Nope." Negligently, he chucked a crowbar at the detective. "If it'll help you get this garbage out of here any faster I'll even help you go over the manifest."

Leon hefted the crowbar and looked at the crate with the eyes of a ten year old on Christmas morning. "Deal."

Two hours later the detective and the manager were still wading through the paperwork.

The manager held a sheet up to the light and made a face. "You know… I've been working as a munitions and ordinance supply specialist for over twenty years now. I started as a crate shlep and worked my way up to warehouse manager. I've been to every munitions expo, in every arms producing country in the world. I've even been a contributing editor for Jane's." He waved a sheet of flimsy. "But, I still couldn't tell you what some of this stuff is."

Leon grunted.

Fanning himself with a sheaf of invoices, the manager loosened his shirt. "Some of it even looks like weapons that are still supposed to be in development." He looked over at Leon in awe. "How the hell did you get this stuff?"

The dark hared cop shrugged and kept flipping through the invoices. To be honest HE wasn't quite how the ADP had gotten the stuff either. But he'd be damned if he was going to tell the manager that. This isn't right, his mind nagged as he leafed through a couple more invoices. Something here wasn't adding up. ADP was always strapped for cash. The city barely gave them enough to stay active and replace what broke. There was no way the department could have paid for all this. Yet, each invoice was marked 'PAID IN FULL' in big, red letters. His first thought had been that it was another gift from the Knight Sabers. It hadn't taken long to disabuse himself of that notion. Any mercenary group that could afford to give this kind of equipment away would be running it's own country someplace not duking it out with boomers in the street. That most of the equipment was supplied by GENOM hadn't escaped his notice either. It was as if someone had taken ADPs wish list as a start and then tried to think of anything to add.

The manager flipped over the last invoice and checked his the last item off of the list in his portable computer. Sighing deeply, he saved the checklist and stretched. "That's the last of it. It's all here."

Leon nodded absently, still lost in thought.

"You gonna get this stuff out of here?" asked the manager, slipping another stick of gum into his mouth.

The detective shook his head clear and stood. Time enough later to worry about where the stuff came from Leon me boy. Right now the important thing is that it's here. A broad grin spread across his face. "You bet your ASS I'm gonna get it out of here." He dug though a few inches of invoices. "You got a phone under here somewhere?"

Mason wiped a thin line of sweat away from her face and turned resolutely back to her checklist so far every delivery was accounted for but she hadn't made it this far by trusting a computers word for everything. Four times already she'd had to pry GENOM's precious packages from the grips of incompetent bureaucrats and thieving fingers. The French thieves she'd actually been kind of amused with. Another hour and the pair would have made off with some VERY expensive hardware. Either one had more on the ball than some of the government idiots she'd been dealing with. Of course that cleverness hadn't saved them in the end. Even she wasn't going to screw around on this one. She shivered. If the old man was right then there was a better than even chance that she wouldn't even be alive at this time next year. Her lovely eyes narrowed as she tracked yet another errant shipment. That being the case it was foolish person indeed whose actions caused those odds to dip even slightly. ADP and its various sister organizations throughout the world had always been forced to do more with less. She was interested in seeing what they did with more for a change.

With cautious and delicate fingers Mackie finished attaching the fiber-optic data lines to the memory assembly and slid it into place. With an audible click the module seated itself. Not bothering to close the housing on the nano-tank the teen turned towards the control terminal. If it didn't work this time he was going to… keep working at it probably. He sighed. Every time he thought he had the damn thing fixed some diagnostic or other would blink its taunting red light at him. The young mechanic mentally crossed his fingers and keyed in the activation and diagnostic codes.

With an audible hum the tank came to life. On the primary control screen pages of data swept past the screen as millions of tests checked and rechecked every component.

Anxiously Mackie watched as each major diagnostic flag came back.

GENOM360AMOLECULAR ASSEMBLY UNIT

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

SYSTEMSTATUS

MEMORYOK

TANK OK

NANITE CONTROL (P)OK

NANITE CONTROL (B)OK

POWER SYSTEMOK

SENSING GRID (P)OK

SENSING GRID (B)OK

ENV. CONTROLOK

EMER. SHUTDOWNOK

System Ready.

Mackie closed his eyes in silent gratitude. Finally.

Sylia set her tea down next to the radio scanner and checked the settings on the complicated piece of electronics carefully. With the new AI it wasn't necessary to personally scan each emergency channel in sequence. Instead the AI sifted through all the official channels for key words and phrases and alerted the operator when one or more appeared. The only time it really needed help was when the encryption was too tough. So all she had to do was be there. Which, given her condition, was probably for the best.

Being careful not to bump her bandages the leader of the Knight Sabers sat back in her chair and allowed herself to relax. In truth she felt better than she had any right to. Fargo's help had enabled her to enjoy her first real bath since she'd been hurt and the warm water had helped ease a lot of her aches and pains. She'd even felt well enough to take a turn at alert duty. Of course convincing everyone else of that had been a bit difficult. Priss in particular had been adamant about waiting until she was fully healed before she resumed her normal duties. Sylia smiled. The hypocrisy hadn't been lost on the other Knight Sabers and was probably the reason why they'd let her take a turn tonight.

Sylia sipped her tea and flipped on the locator. A brief, encrypted, radio pulse pinged the Knight Sabers recall pagers triggering an answering pulse. He satin robe gave a silky hiss as she reached over to set her tea on the table. She nodded in satisfaction as the glowing dots appeared on the monitor. Priss and Chaz were at the club, Linna was at home and Nene and Mackie were probably beating some poor VR game into mush.

She frowned a bit. Fargo's beacon read as out of range. Probably working on something outside the city. The fixer had been up and about almost as soon as she'd finished his repairs. Which left her beacon light blinking in solitude. Sighing, she put the system back on standby. Chaz and Priss would be back soon enough. The singer seemed to be spending more and more time in the new Knight Saber's apartment. Oddly enough the thought of having them living with her and her brother didn't irritate her as much as she'd thought it would. She leaned back in the chair, grateful for the firm support. It was more or less comforting at times. Almost like a family.

Leon took the steps three at time as he bounded up the ADP headquarters stairwell; too excited and impatient to wait for the elevator. Hell, he didn't even mind that he was going to have to see Fujiura. He just couldn't wait to see the looks on the guys faces when they saw the trucks start pouring in.

He hardly minded the faint trickle of sweat down his back as he passed the twentieth floor. Finally! The ADP was going to have the equipment it needed. After giving it careful consideration the detective had decided that he didn't care where the stuff had come from only that it was here. The new K-17A powered armor alone would save lives. With a last bound he cleared the last of the steps to his floor and pushed open the stairwell door and headed for the offices.

Leon pushed open the glass doors and stared. The whole office was clustered up in the corner reading over a freshly posted memo. A few officers here and there were whispering and pointing towards Fujiura's office.

Leon started over and to read the notice and was stopped mid-way by Detective Farin.

Farin grinned and gave the surprised officer a pat on the back. "Hey, folks!" Officers turned around to face the pair. "Look who just walked in! The man of the hour himself."

Leon gave a slight shake of his head. "You guys already knew?"

Farin slapped him on the back. "Nope, Fujiura just posted the notice."

Leon deflated a little. "Damn. I was hoping to surprise everybody."

A young female sergeant piped up as she shook his hand vigorously. "Sure as hell surprised us. Everyone always thought that you were in the black books of the powers that be."

Leon began to get a little dizzy as he was spun around to shake hand after hand.

"Just goes to show doesn't it?"

"Yeah! Guess they finally decided to do something right."

Leon scratched his head in embarrassment. "Well, you know I didn't have much to do with getting the new equipment. I just went to pick it up."

A few faces looked at him nonplussed.

"Equipment?"

"Yeah, Leon what equipment?"

Leon looked around. "I thought you guys were talking about the huge shipment of equipment we just got in…"

He looked around as one after another of the faces around him began to grin.

"He doesn't know!"

"Just goes to show don't it."

Someone shoved a hastily ripped down memo in his hand.

"Always the last one to know."

"Don't you EVER read your e-mail?" Someone quipped.

Another laughed. "He's gonna HAVE to now."

The dark hared detective tried to focus on the memo as everyone tried to slap him on the back and shake his hand. His eyes focused on the first couple lines.

His mouth dropped in shock.

Farin gave him an ear-to-ear grin. "Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. You poor bastard." He turned back to the crowd. "Hey everybody! Let hear it for Captain McNichol, the new chief of ADP!"

Clad in his trademark custom tailored casual suit Quincy stood in the busy street all but oblivious to the heavy pedestrian traffic around him. Like water encountering a river rock, the hurried metropolis broke and flowed around him; all those small people with their cares and dreams. He wasn't completely oblivious to them. He sighed deeply. Whether they would be able to pursue those dreams or indeed even continue to be able to dream at all was going to depend in large part how this meeting went. Grey eyes squinting slightly against the light of the setting sun reflecting in the mirror glass, the chairman of GENOM looked up at the building in front of him. He really didn't want to be here. He'd have preferred to have this done in his own office. But, like so many other things lately what he wanted mattered very little and he hadn't gotten where he was today by denying facts. The person he needed to see was NOT going to be happy to see him. Forcing her to come to him would only have exacerbated an already difficult situation. In a few moments he was going to have to go in. The plans and schemes of years had been cast one by one to the way side until only this course of action was left. Gripping his cane tightly by its middle he started across the street. He hadn't become the man he was today by being indecisive either and he wasn't about to start now. With a firm tread Quincy crossed the street and pushed open the door into Lady's 633.


	9. Chapter 9

Straitening his tan cashmere jacket Quincy walked through the rotating door and into Lady's 666. He could, he supposed, have taken the lift straight up to Stingrays flat but that would have been a tad too presumptuous. As it was she wasn't going to want to see him and no matter what the cost he had to see her! Of course he had his ace in the hole but if she wouldn't talk to him at all it was going to be useless. And damn it all to hell he HAD to have her willing cooperation! Pushing his anxiety to the bad of his mind, the undisputed power on the GENOM throne walked towards the cash register.

Like a careful predator his eyes focused on the woman behind the counter. Long red hair falling in waves framed a perfect face with stunning emerald green eyes. Almost involuntarily Quincy felt himself begin to respond to her before he clamped down viciously on it. Something was wrong here… Ah, perhaps… His eyes narrowed slightly, as he concentrated. Senses more acute than a martial artist could develop in a lifetime came awake. As he'd thought, she was too perfect. Such symmetry simply wasn't found in nature and of course the altered pheromones were a dead giveaway. He relaxed slightly. The only question was why someone who could afford such an expensive procedure would be working in a lingerie shop. He brought his mental processes to halt and filed the question away for later perusal. Such considerations were hardly germane to the situation at hand. He gave the redhead another look. Perhaps later, he mused.

Nene finished ringing up the last of Iris's packages and smiled brightly at one of her favorite customers. "You really have to promise to come in next week," she confided to her friend, "The Fall catalog is coming out."

Iris blushed slightly and hid a smile. "Isn't that the one you modeled for?" she asked shyly. Nene had been mentioning it for weeks and she was really looking forward to seeing it.

The redhead nodded vigorously as she reached under the counter for another box. "Yeah. We just finished the other day and I can't wait to see how the shots came out." Her practiced hands slid the almost transparent silk undergarments into layers of tissue and finally into the Lady's 666 box. "Besides we…" her breath came up short and her stomach went cold and sullen as she caught sight of her next customer. She made a heroic effort and brought her fear under control.

"Besides we?" Iris gave her a funny look. "Are you okay?"

Nene waved away the look. "Sorry, just remembered something. Anyway we're going to be having a sale on the summer stuff and I know you don't want to miss it."

Quincy tried to look casual as he blocked out the rest of the conversation. Interesting, while not unknown to the media his was hardly a well-known face. However the young woman had not only identified him from a quick glance she'd been afraid. The shadier side of GENOM was scarcely public knowledge and the few brushes he'd had with the public had never provoked anywhere near this reaction. Yet, for some reason she was actually afraid of him. Perhaps his earlier question was pertinent after all.

Matter Over Mind Productions

Presents

Mega-Tokyo 2033

The Knight Sabers

"A Certain Point of View."

Chapter 9 "Revelations"

Copyright (c) 2005 Charles S. Stitman

Sylia heard the alarm buzzer and limped over to the video-com. What could Nene be having a problem with… HIM! A flood of anger charged adrenaline poured into her bloodstream. Sharply she studied Quincys image as she worked to damp her emotions. What did HE want? She forced her tense shoulders to relax a little. He didn't seem to want trouble anyway. The way he stood said all too clearly that he was aware that he was being watched. She cursed softly under her breath. She'd never felt the need for more than minimal security in the store and didn't have the sensors down there necessary to scan him in detail. She examined him carefully. Quincy was no fool and more than one anti-GENOM would be assassin had been tricked by a carefully produced boomer double. It seemed unlikely he'd send a duplicate to her though. Despite appearances to the contrary, anyone who did some checking would know that she kept up with the latest in boomer technology. Indeed it would be suspicious if she hadn't given the family history. So he couldn't reliably expect her to be fooled by a duplicate. For the same reason he'd be unlikely to send a boomer assassin. Plus, she admitted to herself, if that bastard had really wanted her dead she would be. She stifled a grin that threatened to escape her rigid control, well aware that the head of GENOM enterprises was blatantly trying to manipulate her through the camera… and succeeding. So that probably really is him down there pretending to sort through a bin of bargain priced panties. Slowly she headed towards the lift. While maddening; this promised to be out of the ordinary.

Relaxing on a bar stool beneath a flickering neon-sign Tatsugawa Ryoda 'call me Ryo' scanned the scurrying crowd as they made their way along the Paradise Loop. For a place that wasn't supposed to exist and that no one was supposed to know about the Loop got a lot of nighttime foot traffic. Casually leaning back he sipped his beer and eyed the women walking past. After a hard day walking tall steel he deserved a little R&R and it wasn't like looking was a crime. His eyes scanned left and caught a flash of silver. Like a scene from a movie the rest of the world faded out. There in front of him were the two most beautiful women he'd ever seen. Almost involuntarily his eyes dropped to the floor to begin a quick pan from toes to hair. Perfect, he decided, absolutely perfect. Dressed immaculately in matching skirts and blouses the pair hadn't a flaw between them as they navigated the crowd with poise and precision. Either one could have come off a Milano catwalk only seconds ago and their contrasting coloration served to set them off perfectly. Sighing gratefully as the pair walked hand-in-hand out of sight Ryoda turned back to his beer. Sometimes, if you were good, life threw you a little bonus.

Immaculately dressed in matching metallic silver skirts and blouses, Anri and Nam walked down the neon-lit tunnel section of the Paradise Loop towards their destination.

Meg paced relentlessly back and forth across the three sexaroids small apartment. She was losing them. She could feel it. Why couldn't Anri and Nam see that the apes weren't worth grieving over? The whole species could be wiped from the face of existence and never a bitter tear would be shed. Shrugging irritably Meg grabbed her purse and moved to the door. Reaching into her bag she fingered the knife she'd obtained just a few days ago. The former ape had been stupid enough to pull it on her after she'd stolen his wallet. In the end she'd relived him in quick succession of his wallet, his knife, and his life. She still shivered in pleasure at the memory. After that it had grown into what she knew was a dangerous obsession. Every night when Anri and Nam went out to conduct their business she prowled the edges of the Loop looking for those apes stupid enough to travel alone in such a dangerous place. Despite the danger of discovery she'd kept the ID of each of the twenty-five humans she'd killed. In a place like the Loop few people questioned one more body and noone had yet noticed that each was down a quart of blood. Shaking herself out of her reverie Meg slung the heavy purse over her shoulder and exited the shabby apartment. Maybe she should spend some of the money on a better place.

A few moments after the angry Meg had left the screws holding the air vent in place on the wall unscrewed and fell to the ground. With hardly a noise the vent was pushed out by metallic tentacles and set aside. With a high pitched noise an almost organic looking cleaning boomer wheeled into the room and over to the now vacated bed. Tentacles carefully lifted the mattress and a mechanical eye looked over the spread of IDs lying there. A mechanical tabulation was made and the mattress carefully replaced. Wheeling back though the vent the tentacles replaced the screws and all was silent in the room once more.

Not far away a raging intelligence took note of the new information and if it had bother with something as 'spit' human as an eveil smile it would have done so. Soon now the sexaroid known as Meg would join the cause.

Mackie sat worriedly in a well-padded armchair outside of the meeting room his sister had appropriated for her meeting with Quincy. Through the double paned, frosted-glass he could see the shaky silhouette of Sylvia as she angrily paced back and forth in the small room on the other side. With every few trip back and forth in front of the table the distorted image of his sister would stop and harangue the calmly sitting figure at the other end of the table.

He'd raced over from Doc's as soon as soon as he'd gotten word from Nene. Not that he'd apparently missed much. Despite the soundproofing of the room in question he could still hear his normally cool sister venting her anger at the Chairman of GENOM through the walls. Surprisingly, he'd yet to hear Quincy raise his voice loud enough to be heard. Given what the teen knew of the much older man's personality that could only mean that what he had to say was too important to allow himself anger over. This analysis didn't salve Mackie's fears, as he couldn't conceive of ANY reason this side of the end of the world that would be THAT important. He was so wrapped up in his thinking and listening to the one sided argument through the walls that he missed the approach of his redheaded girlfriend bearing a tray of sandwiches.

Nene, winced as yet another yelling fit came through the glass. Whatever had brought Quincy here hadn't seemed to cool Sylvia's anger one bit. In fact, she doubted the man had even managed to tell the daughter of the man he'd had killed the reason for his visit. It looked like he was just sitting there and taking it until the near-homicidal rage ran its course. If it ran it course. Nene had been up here twice in the past hour before Mackie came back and the inferno of anger hadn't seemed to even cool a bit. Shaking her head the gorgeous hacker moved up behind Mackie and deposited the tray on the coffee table in front of him. Mackie thanked her idly and she wondered if his conscious mind had even really noticed her. Pulling up another comfortable chair Nene sat down and smoothed out her tan pants before taking Mackie's hand in her own. She'd left messages for the rest of the team and handed over the Silky Doll to one of the other sales-girls before heading up. For the pair waiting impatiently outside the meeting room it was now just a matter of time.

Sitting solidly behind his antique Napoleon desk Chin eyed his daughter and her lover/bodyguard through tired eyes. The trio had been pounding away at possible approaches to the GENOM issue for the past three days with only caffeinated beverages and snacks to sustain them. The initial actions they'd taken had been easy. Within 24hrs they'd grabbed every contract broken by GENOM. Factories, directly and indirectly, owned by the Hou Bang had already begun gearing up and the situation looked to provide a windfall of legitimate business to the quasi-legal conglomerate. Everything from spider-tanks to vacuums would provide a bounty of profit through the foreseeable future. The question was, 'what kind of future?'. Irene and Kou had gone over the info again and again with no great insights.

Chin wiped a hand down his ancient, lined face and pressed his fingertips to his temples before sighing wearily. Perhaps it was time he passed control over to his daughter. In the past couple months she'd come farther, faster than he could have dreamed just a year ago. With the more than loyal and extremely able Kou beside her she'd make a fine leader for the Hou bang. For the first time in years he FELT old. Money and power had bought the finest medical care that could be provided and he'd always prided himself on taking care of his health. However, the last few days were beginning to wear on him. Shaking off his wandering thoughts he sipped his ginseng tea and leaned forward to address the younger couple pouring over the computer displays.

Taking a deep breath he then cleared his throat. "We're thinking in circles; aimless tracks that lead nowhere we haven't already been. A nights rest would do us a world of good and time might provide more food for thought."

Irene brushed her hair away from her face and sat back in her chair rubbing her lower spine. "Grandfather's right Kou." She yawned and stretched as she continued the thought, "Maybe we should take a break finally and pick up in the morning with fresher outlooks."

Kou made a half-hearted final peck at his keyboard and then started the hibernation cycle. "Agreed. Nothing is likely to come up in the next couple minutes that we can't deal with in the morning." Standing up the handsome if slightly rumpled bodyguard made his way over to help his employer from his chair.

Irene reached for keyboard to begin shutdown and stopped. A search macro she'd set up a couple of days ago had finally yielded some results; interesting ones. Debating whether it was worth forgoing sleep to investigate more she decided on just a quick check. With nimble fingers she typed in a short query. The returned information stole her breath. She sat heavily. "You two might want to sit back down." Leaning over Irene hit the intercom. "More coffee, tea and donuts please."

Kou released Chin and made his way to look over his lovers shoulder. "What do you have?"

Irene gestured at the central holographic display as an image began to take form. "I noticed early on that although GENOM was canceling contracts and support subsidies right and left they doubled the amount of donations going to deep space research and observatories both ground based and orbital." She sipped at her cold coffee and made a face. "So, I set up a program to dig into the latest space shots on the off chance there was something there."

Kou sat down at his keyboard and brought it back up. "It came up with something?"

Irene's fingers typed a couple quick commands. "More like it came back with nothing. There's been no space shot of a certain area of inter-system space posted anywhere for the past couple weeks. It's like the entire planet has decided to turn a blind eye towards it." The display centered on the Earth and then pulled back and highlighted the area in question.

Kou looked askance. "What about the UN's anti-meteor watch? Surely they've looked at it."

Irene looked at her father as the older man leaned in to take a look at the holo-display as if he could fathom its secrets with closer examination. Looking back at Kou she answered his question. "No. For the past week they've been complaining of 'hardware problems'." She snorted. "But they've assured everyone that they'll be up and running by Friday and that nothing was likely to appear before then."

Chin looked up. "A smokescreen then. What do we have that can give us a look there?"

Irene punched up another screen and began a search on Hou Bang assets. "We've got a couple of satellites normally used for other things that could possibly get a look in about ten minutes. We'll have to retask them though." She looked up at her grandfather. At a confirming nod from the leader of the Hou Bang Irene sent the command. Somewhere a group of technicians were scrambling to hurriedly prepare a satellite normally spying on the Earth below to spin and look at the Heavens above. "We'll know if this was a wild goose-chase in a few minutes." She shrugged and got up to grab a cup of coffee from the refilled silver service being brought in by an impeccably dressed secretary. Sipping the bitter brew she smiled gratefully at the exiting man before the door closed behind him. Turning she was worried to see Kou sitting nervously in front of his machine. Pouring him a cup of coffee she moved up behind the large man.

Kou, hunched over his own computer watched the clock as the seconds ticked down. He could feel Irene standing behind but despite his best efforts he couldn't get his shoulders to relax. It'd been a while since he'd felt this nasty tingle of danger running up his spine. It wasn't logical or reasonable but paying attention to this creeping sense of danger had kept him alive more than once. He was hoping that he was wrong but he was afraid that whatever had spooked Quincy was in that section of space and moving closer.

Placing her hand on her lovers tense shoulder the heir-apparent to the Hou Bang looked over at one of the men she respected most in the world. Unsurprisingly, he was sitting there calmly waiting for the information. Long ago her grandfather had mastered the art of doing nothing when there was nothing to do. Leaving the coffee for Kou, Irene poured a third cup and placed it in front of her grandfather.

Chin smiled up at his granddaughter with pride and love. She was such a good girl; much better in some ways than an old man liked him deserved. Once again he lamented that her parents had lived to see her blossom into the woman she was becoming. He moved his hand to cover hers and gave a squeeze of affection.

Kou gave an exclamation of surprise and punched up the incoming 2-D images onto the viewer. Chin and Irene leaned forward to get a better look. It didn't look like much; just a black circle against the backdrop of stars. One by one Kou punched up each additional image as they came in; enhancing some and blowing up details in others. From the limited angle the satellite provided the object looked perfectly spherical with a radius of a little over two kilometers. It had a flat albedo but was radiating slightly in the infrared spectrum.

Chin leaned back in the chair and gathered his thoughts while the two younger people continued to gather more information. So far every bit of data they had suggested that, whatever it was, it wasn't natural. Preliminary computer models suggested that it was going to arrive in an almost perfect orbit between the moon and Earth in a couple days. So whatever it was it wasn't a weapon itself. Simply dropping something that big on the Earth from orbit would effectively end life on the planet. So something or someone was coming visiting. Given Quincy's reaction to it the chairman of GENOM didn't expect whatever it was to be friendly. Despite their differences Chin was inclined to agree. Any species capable of putting that monster into space would no better than to try to sneak into an even reasonably advanced cultures sky without some kind of warning.


End file.
